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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685932">like candy in my veins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/embraidery/pseuds/embraidery'>embraidery</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Ladies, Developing Relationship, F/F, Sharing a Bed, Wendimoor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:28:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/embraidery/pseuds/embraidery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amanda thinks about returning to her own dimension right away. It would be easy enough to swipe the wand, get right back in the old Rowdy van, and figure shit out as they went along.</p><p>But somewhere in her gut, her super-omniscient, tapped-into-the-fabric-of-reality gut, she knows that the universe can wait at least a little longer. Fate is fate, right? And hey, when is she ever gonna get to spend time in fricken’ Narnia again?</p><p>With the universe saved (for now), Amanda decides to stay a while in the rebuilt Wendimoor. To study magic, to learn from Francis and Wakti. But it’s just possible that she learns more about the places and people than the magic; one pretty, pink-haired person in particular. Dammit, she can’t resist hot ladies with weapons. She’s only human. Magical and badass, but still just a simple human with a penchant for women who can kick her ass.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amanda Brotzman/Litzibitz Trost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DGHDA Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>like candy in my veins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>pretty sure I said this last year, but this was definitely a long, long labour of love! </p><p>thank you so much to my beta, @keeperoftherunnerrs on tumblr, and to everyone else to listened to me ramble and told me to write, like the cool cats in the big bang discord server. (and thank you to newt specifically for the summary above!) </p><p>massive thank you and congrats also to my artist, marizetta on ao3 and tumblr, who drew three gorgeous illustrations of this story!!</p><p>okay, time for notes. title is from electric love by BØRNS. in this, as in all my wendimoor works, panto is older than litzibitz (as appropriate considering their actors' age). if there are mistakes here with who knows what about the end of the world or whatever, my bad, i haven't rewatched s2 in ages. but other than that i think things should be self-explanatory!</p><p>oh wait, warnings. okay. contains some rude language, hints at adult themes, and one scene of marijuana usage.</p><p>alright i think that's about it! enjoy, and i hope you fall in love with litzibitz (and amanda/litzibitz) as much as i have. :^)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> "It's time for you to go home," he said. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> She bit her lip as she gathered her thoughts. "There's so much shit I don’t know about my powers yet. The universe can wait a few months, right?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The boy tapped one finger against his chin, a strangely old gesture for such a young thing.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Okay. How’s three months? Then I’ll send you home." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Cool. I can do three months.” The woman looked up at the boy king standing in front of his throne, the weight of a kingdom resting on his tiny shoulders. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The boy clapped his hands and everything went black. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Wendimoorian dancing is something else.</p><p> </p><p>It makes sense that their ‘waltz’ involves skipping, twirling, and a ridiculous amount of bowing and curtsying, given Wendimoor’s creation. Amanda feels dizzy just watching Farson and Silas dance.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, dance with us!” Farson encourages her, holding out a hand. His dance partner smiles at Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Amanda couldn’t deny that she’d asked to join their princely lessons. She just hadn’t danced like this since 8th grade P.E. She steps forward and accepts Farson’s hand. He looks up at her with a smile. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Amanda says again. “So what do I do?”</p><p> </p><p>“So you start with a curtsy.” Farson bows elegantly, one arm held behind his back, the other outstretched to hold her hand as she curtsies.</p><p> </p><p>“So then we slide over to the right.”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda steps on his feet a couple times to begin with, but that’s just because they got their wires crossed. She has a good natural sense of rhythm enhanced by playing the drums. It goes pretty smoothly after that. The twirls, jumps, and skips make her laugh hard enough she almost has to stop dancing. Silas watches them from where he’s dancing with his partner, a young guy in a sharp uniform. </p><p> </p><p>Farson smiles at her, a little confused. “What’s so funny?”</p><p> </p><p>“This is totally different from Earth waltzing,” Amanda explains between giggles.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s Earth waltzing like?” Farson asks. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda takes his hands again and leads him through a waltz as best she can remember it. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s a bit boring!” Farson says, propping his hands on his hips.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda laughs. “Yeah, but at least it doesn’t make me dizzy!”</p><p> </p><p>They take a break on benches along the walls of the dancing hall, Amanda breathing hard while the others seem unbothered. She really needs a shower after this. Break passes in a blink of an eye, and before Amanda’s really caught her breath, it’s time for music lessons.</p><p> </p><p>Their music room is enormous with a soaring wooden ceiling “for the acoustics,” Silas explains. He warbles out a short melody that expands to fill the space.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa!” Amanda’s voice echoes and bounces against the ceiling far above.</p><p> </p><p>There are rows and rows of musical instruments down at the other end of the room. Some Amanda recognises as violins, trumpets, harps, drums, though some of them are colorful plastic instead of metal or wood. Others are less recognisable. She chooses a long, narrow instrument that’s curved and spiraled like a crazy straw. </p><p> </p><p>The music teacher looks like an old-fashioned jester, complete with a multicoloured cap covered with tassels and bells. </p><p> </p><p>“Why hello! You must be Amanda!” She comes forward and clasps Amanda’s hands between her own. “Welcome.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Amanda says, removing her hands from the music teacher’s grasp. “What is this called?” she asks, covering her discomfort. </p><p> </p><p>“This is a brinafoo,” says the teacher. “Here, you’ll need this.” She plucks a thin little rectangle from a basket next to the instruments. Amanda accepts it from the teacher and puts it in her pocket.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, you don’t want to do that!” the teacher exclaims. “That goes in your mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda takes it out of her pocket and tries to dust it off, juggling the crazy-straw instrument between her arm and torso.</p><p> </p><p>“All right, let’s get started!”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a little embarrassing learning how to play an instrument she’s never seen before when Silas and Farson are already very good at it, but both of them have impeccable manners and don’t laugh at Amanda as she makes high squeaking sounds on the instrument. </p><p> </p><p>It’s entertaining once she gets the hang of it, though. It sounds kind of like a clarinet, but also like one of those weird plastic tubes that makes a funny noise when turned upside down. The sound also has notes of kazoo and vuvuzela. Amanda can barely play it; every time she tries, the resulting sound makes her laugh.</p><p>She thinks it's only a silly instrument, but after she takes a break to rest her aching cheeks, Silas and Farson pull out their sheet music and play a beautiful duet. Amanda sits backwards on her chair, crossing her arms over the back of the chair and resting her chin on her hands, listening.</p><p>After that, they take another quick break. A servant brings them orange slices and nuts for a snack. It isn't long until they go down to a dirt-floor arena to practice dueling. They aren't alone now, with what looks like soldiers milling around the edges of the arena. Some of them take pairs of scissors down from the rack and polish them until they shine.</p><p>Silas disappears into a storage closet and brings out a helmet, a pile of quilted fabric, and a pair of wooden scissors. "For you, because you've never done this before," he explains. Amanda puts on the quilted jacket, gloves, and the helmet. It's snug around her face, with a piece of wire mesh in front of her face. She picks up the scissors in her gloved hand. They're heavier than she expected, even made of wood rather than metal.</p><p>Farson waves over the teacher. "This is Amanda," he explains. "She's never done this before."</p><p>"Hi," says the teacher, holding out a calloused hand to shake. She's a tall woman with broad shoulders with her hair in a heavy red braid coiled and pinned to the back of her head. "We have a few new recruits, so you'll partner with one of them." She points down to the end of the room where a few kids, probably no older than twelve, are playing tag.</p><p>"But they're tiny! I can't fight them!" Amanda blurts.</p><p>Silas laughs. "You'll be moving slowly. You won't hurt them."</p><p>"Maybe you could partner with me instead, Amanda?" Farson suggests, looking between her and the teacher.</p><p>The teacher looks Amanda up and down appraisingly. "Alright, guess it couldn't hurt. Go easy on her, sir."</p><p>Farson nods, pulling on his own protective clothing. "Of course," he says, voice muffled through the wire mesh.</p><p>They warm up first, walking in big circles, jogging and skipping. Then they stand in a circle and stretch all their muscles, head to toe. Amanda hadn't expected that, though it makes sense when she thinks about it. When they're finally paired up, the red-haired teacher spends most of her time with the younger kids. Farson gives her the rundown on the basics.</p><p>“We won't open the scissors yet,” he says. “Okay, I think we’re supposed to practice how to move first.”</p><p>They set down their scissors and walk back and forth in straight lines, practicing standing on the balls of their feet. Then Farson has Amanda use her hand as a sword, trying to touch him while using the proper footwork. It feels just about as silly as the dancing and the brinafoo, but she's too winded to laugh. Still, she whacks Farson's legs once and his shoulders once. After that, she gets to use the scissors. She comes in way too fast and Farson tells her to slow down.</p><p>"Someday you could be as fast as them," he says, pointing to a pair of older students next to them. Amanda's instinct was to say it was like watching fencing in a movie, but it wasn't: there was no spinning around, no drama, just the clash and slide of their scissors.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda gets to learn a few moves after that: how to attack with a cool twisting motion of her wrist and how to deflect. They take turns to be the one to attack. It's all very slow, but it's still a lot of work: the scissors weigh down her arms more and more. By the end, she feels surprisingly confident about the basics. She and Farson have a little duel. The little kids cheer for her at the end, and she lets the scissors drop, panting and grinning and dripping with sweat. Her arms shake as she takes off her helmet and jacket.</p><p> </p><p>That was probably her favourite of the activities she'd done that day. It made her feel like the heroine of a story about a woman knight, like <em> Song of the Lioness </em> or <em> Protector of the Small </em>. She’s pleasantly exhausted as she sinks into a steaming bubble bath that night. She works some shampoo through her hair, massaging her scalp, before sliding deeper into the water and letting it wash over her. While she soaks, she thinks about how she came to be in Wendimoor. </p><p> </p><p>She had appeared at the base of a hill looking up at a castle surrounded by crowds of people, all shouting and laughing and crying. Farson offered to let her stay in his castle, which suited Amanda just fine. She didn’t really want to stay in Wakti’s cave. (She visited Wakti, too, to make sure her friend was alright.) </p><p> </p><p>The castle was the weirdest place Amanda had ever been. She was hardly a history buff, but none of it seemed to be from the same time period on Earth. Radios nestled alongside swords on the fireplace mantle in the great hall. Plastic decorations rubbed elbows with hand-carved wooden goblets. The suits of armor lining the walls came in every color of the rainbow; Amanda stopped to admire one covered with shiny green beetle exoskeletons.</p><p> </p><p>It made Amanda wonder about the history of Wendimoor. Assuming time worked the same way there as it did on Earth, it had only existed for a few decades. Had there been enough time for proper war? Enough time to come up with beetle-wing armor? Maybe Francis created it with years of imaginary history baked into everyone’s memories. He’d have to create the props to prove it. <em> Or maybe it’s magic, </em>Amanda thought, rolling her eyes at herself. </p><p> </p><p>Dinner had been just as eclectic as the rest of the castle. It wasn’t as fancy as Amanda had expected, but Farson whispered to her that this was a simple dinner; plans were already in motion for a much fancier celebration banquet later that week. Still, there were foods Amanda had read about in the <em> Narnia </em> books when she was a kid: roasted birds, platters of shining fruits, goblets full of wine, steaming loaves of bread with homemade butter. But there were also burgers, hot dogs, great big pizzas. Farson passed her a tray of fruits in shapes Amanda could never have imagined. The first sip of her drink revealed a flavour like liquified pizza. It was all very odd, but the chefs were very talented, and it kind of worked as a semi-casual dinner in a castle in a different dimension Amanda only found out about a few days ago. Amanda was sure she was too full for dessert, but when edible tide pods appeared, extra space magically opened up in her tummy.</p><p> </p><p>The tide pods tasted like cotton candy and blue raspberry and watermelon slushies and, somehow, fireflies on a summer night. They were the most bomb thing Amanda had ever tasted, even better than the roasted quail garlic thing she’d had only fifteen minutes before. Eight-year-old Amanda would have straight-up died if she’d gotten to eat one of these.</p><p> </p><p>She sleeps very, very well that night in her guest room.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning brings a breakfast much like the first one she’d had in the castle: ice cream and waffles, triple chocolate muffins, scrambled eggs with m&amp;m’s. She eats her way through a tall plate of plain waffles while the others swirl spoonfuls of ice cream around their bowls. After they’re done, Farson suggests exploring their surroundings on horseback. They head down to the stable together. It’s a warm, sleepy place that smells like hay, filled with rows and rows of beautiful shiny horses.</p><p> </p><p>They’re terrifying.</p><p> </p><p>Well — not <em> terrifying, </em>that’s definitely an exaggeration, but it’s the word that comes first to Amanda’s mind. They’re bigger than she expected, side-eyeing each other and snorting, tapping their hooves on the ground. Objectively she thinks they’re alright, but she’s a city girl born and raised. The closest she ever got to big mammals (beside one carnival pony ride) was seeing deer in the woods behind the house she moved into after her parents went broke. Deer, she now realises, are tiny. </p><p> </p><p>Farson hasn’t seemed to notice Amanda’s hesitation. He walks right up to a horse the colour of butterscotch and strokes her nose. </p><p> </p><p>“This is Buttercup,” he tells Amanda, ruffling the horse’s mane. “Come say hi!”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda has done much scarier things than approaching a horse, so she pulls herself together and walks over to the pair. Buttercup’s nose is soft and warm under Amanda’s hand. She whickers softly and looks at Amanda with one of her big brown eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know how to ride a horse," Amanda says hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Awh, Buttercup knows what she's doing.” Farson pats her side. "You'll be fine. Do you want to?” </p><p> </p><p>Buttercup nudges Amanda's face with her soft nose. Amanda looks her in her big brown eyes…</p><p> </p><p>"Are you coming?" Amanda asks. </p><p> </p><p>“I can’t, I have lessons. But you could ask someone to show you how to ride!” Farson says, pointing at a stable hand.</p><p> </p><p>Once Amanda's all saddled up and given riding instructions, she doesn't feel so nervous. It's a little odd for her to be anxious about something like this, but a horse has a mind of its own, unlike a motorcycle or a tumbledown van. Buttercup is exceedingly gentle, however, and it doesn’t take long before Amanda loosens her tense muscles and looks around her at the woods. She enjoys riding for an hour or so until her ass gets sore. She hops off Buttercup and collapses onto the grass.</p><p> </p><p>So, look, it's not like Amanda is a huge nature person. Her family went camping a couple times when she was a kid. She’d loved making s'mores and climbing over rocks and shit, but just spending time in nature doing nothing is hard for her. During her years of spending all her time at home, she spent most of her time on YouTube and Tumblr. Even now, after she's quit using her phone, her fingers itch to start scrolling. </p><p>Amanda resists the feeling. She keeps her fingers busy by braiding long pieces of grass. It reminds her of elementary school. Back then she’d sit on a grassy hill at recess picking handfuls of grass. She’d drop the grass on her friend's face or throw it fruitlessly at the mean kids. She wonders if she would still know how to make a friendship bracelet. She tries to use the grass to make one, but the pieces of grass are wide and flat, so she gives that up, too. </p><p>She watches a ladybug climb a twig in front of her and holds out her finger. The ladybug crawls up over the side of her finger and onto her nail, still spotted with the remnants of old black polish. Amanda brings her finger close to her eyes, close enough she goes cross-eyed, and examines the ladybug. It wiggles its shell before flying away. Amanda feels a stab of rejection.</p><p>Amanda considers what to do next. Buttercup's eating grass even though she's not supposed to with her bit in, but as Amanda watches, she gets down and rolls around in the grass like a dog. Amanda scoots a little further away from her big heavy legs pedaling in the air. It's pretty funny to watch from a safe distance.</p><p>"Buttercup!" Amanda calls, like she's talking to a cat or a dog. "What are you doing, girl?"</p><p>Buttercup stops rolling and looks at Amanda, ears pricked.</p><p>"Yeah, hi." A smile spreads across Amanda's face. "You're rolling in the grass, huh? Is it fun?"</p><p>Buttercup whickers and shakes her head before getting back to her roll. Amanda lies down in the grass, too. It's the sort of thing that feels like it should be in a movie or a book, lying in the grass, but the reality of it has twigs and pebbles poking into her back. Something tiny crawls onto Amanda's foot and she sits up, brushing the ant off her skin. That’s it, she’s heading back to the castle! It’s a nice, sun-soaked ride back.</p><p>Once she gets back, she feeds Buttercup a banana while a stablehand brushes her coat and puts her saddle away. Amanda feels prickles of guilt at letting someone else do all the work, so she pays close attention to how they do it. She’ll be able to do it all herself someday. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda spends the next few days exploring the castle, reading books in the soaring castle library, and visiting Wakti. She's had enough of forest adventures for a little while. She isn’t sure what to expect of the big banquet and isn’t even sure what questions to ask. She’s never been to anything like it -- she skipped both her high school proms. She doesn’t yet know all the ins and outs of Wendimoorian etiquette, and she doesn’t have anything appropriate to wear! She only gets more nervous as the banquet approaches. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda can’t spend all her time worrying, though. She prefers to attend more prince lessons. Scissor dueling and dancing are her favourite classes, though it’s also fun to take geography. It’s a bit like the limited geography of <em> The Truman Show </em> or <em> Pleasantville; </em> they <em> know </em>of other countries around them, but no one in living memory has been there, and what knowledge they have is rather vague. Instead, they study every corner of the lands they do know -- Inglenook, Star Rock, Knick-Knack Highlands, and Marshmallow Mountains. Sometimes they go on field trips to this place or that and paint landscapes with oil paint. </p><p>The morning of the banquet arrives all too soon. A servant named Agneta comes in that afternoon to help Amanda get ready. Amanda perches on the edge of an armchair. She feels Agneta's fingers picking out her braid, tugging and loosening the sections of her hair. Amanda resolves to teach the Rowdies how to braid hair when she gets back; she hadn't realized how much she'd missed girls playing with her hair at middle school sleepovers. Agneta starts re-braiding her hair. It's hard to tell what she's doing, exactly, but Amanda thinks she can tell that she's working with small sections of hair. Eventually she ushers Amanda over to the mirror and puts pearl pins into Amanda's hairdo. When Amanda finally gets to take a look, she can't help gasping. Her hair has been swept up into a fishtail and coiled into a bun on the side of her head; it looks like one of those swirly shell fossils. Then Agneta gives Amanda emerald green eyeliner and sticks tiny jewels to the inner corners of her eyes. Amanda would never have thought of it herself, but it looks sick as hell. Finally, Agneta lends Amanda a sleek, emerald-green dress with puffed sleeves and a narrow skirt. They walk slowly down to the grand dining hall, where all the dinner guests have congregated outside the enormous doors.</p><p>“You will be introduced first, then the advisors and dukes and people like that, then the Trosts, then the Dengdamors,” Agneta whispers to her.</p><p>"I'm going first?"</p><p>Agneta nods.</p><p>Amanda takes a steeling breath. "Okay." </p><p>Agneta points out Amanda's seat. Even though Amanda was the least important guest there, she was up at the end of the table where the royal family would be. <em> Thank god. </em></p><p>The heralds play their trumpets and announce that "Amanda Brotzman, of Earth," has arrived.</p><p>Amanda walks out into the dining hall. There's a servant behind each chair wearing the Dengdamor livery; Amanda pauses, confused, in front of her chair before the man in front of it pulls it out for her. Oh, of course. She takes her seat and arranges her skirt over her legs.</p><p>The man in livery whispers, “Excuse me, madam, but traditionally guests do not sit until the Queen does.”</p><p><em> Oh fuck! </em>Amanda jumps up as though she’s been scalded. She clears her throat and stands by her savior. “Thanks,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. </p><p>It's a long, long list of people at the banquet. Person after person files into the dining room, all arrayed in gorgeous clothes in every color of the rainbow. Eventually they make it up to the royal families. Litzibitz, then Panto, then their father file into their places. Finally, the Dengamors take their places, Frija waving serenely to their visitors. Once Frija takes her seat, everyone else does too. Plates and plates of appetizers are brought out to the table. Amanda spots trays of cheesy bread twists, meats arranged on crackers, sculptures made of vegetables in every color imaginable.  </p><p>"Everyone looks amazing," Amanda says quietly to Farson, looking around at her neighbors.</p><p>He nods as he looks up and down the table. "We've really gone all out today. I think it's a bit of a competition." His eyes crinkle in a tiny smile.</p><p>"Who's winning?" Amanda asks him.</p><p>Farson's eyes narrow as he considers. He takes a sip of his drink, which looks like wine but smells like fruit juice. "I may be biased, but I think Panto and Silas look really good.”</p><p>It's true. Silas is in a navy doublet embroidered with blue thread just a shade lighter. A pale pink pocket square peeks out from his chest pocket. Panto’s in the pale blue of the Trosts with a navy blue pocket square. But Amanda’s eyes catch on Litzibitz. Her dress is made of layers and layers of gossamer, making up a fairy princess skirt that fades from pink to blue. It’s quite a contrast from the cowgirl look Amanda saw her in before, but she looks just as content in it, her hair dotted with white crystals. She happens to glance over then and meet Amanda’s eye. She flashes Amanda a smile before resuming her conversation with her neighbor.</p><p>Amanda deals with the unfamiliar social customs of this banquet by being quiet and doing whatever Farson does. Once she gets the hang of it, it’s actually kind of nice? Farson introduces her to the various dignitaries. She would have expected them all to be old, but there are some about her age, which makes sense once she thinks about it. The Trost cousins all have the same pink hair. Amanda’s deathly curious about it, of course. Is it genetic? Or if not, how do they keep all their roots so perfect?</p><p>The conversation is all about people and places Amanda doesn’t know, so she mostly ends up people-watching. She doesn’t have a big family, with only three cousins on her mom’s side. Her dad’s side all lives in Canada so she never really got to know them. It’s interesting to see the similarities between them all. Silas and Farson have the same earnest, people-pleasing qualities, which their cousins have in varying quantities. Panto has a curious gravity that pulls everyone’s attention to him, though not at all in an obnoxious way. He shares the conversation easily and listens intently to everyone else. It’s clear Litzibitz is the younger sibling, with even more of the flair for drama Panto has. </p><p>After dinner the young people migrate over to the Dengdamor boys’ lounge room with glasses of wine and soda. Litzibitz sits down next to Amanda on her velvety loveseat, flashing her a bright white smile. </p><p>“Hi! You’re Amanda, right?” she says, holding out her free hand, and there’s a bit of a fumble when Amanda doesn’t know if she’s meant to shake it or kiss it. She takes Litzibitz’s hand in her own (soft! warm!) and starts bringing it up to her face. <em> Am I really doing this?! </em>Amanda asks herself, panicked, and ends up just lightly brushing her lips over the back of Litzibitz’s hand before letting it go. Amanda sees Litzibitz’s eyes widen, then crinkle, as she holds back a smile. </p><p>“Uh, yep, that’s me, Your Majesty!” </p><p>“Oh, you can just call me Litzibitz! No one calls me your majesty.”</p><p>“Okay.” Amanda looks down at the layers and layers of Litzibitz’s delicate skirt spread over the loveseat between them. “I love your dress, Litzibitz!” As Litzibitz shifts her legs on the sofa, her shoes poke out from the bottom of her dress -- are those <em> Converse?! </em>  </p><p>“Oh thanks, I made it!” Litzibitz sees Amanda looking at her shoes and winks. "No one can tell under the skirt, and they're so much more comfortable than heels."</p><p>"Wait, you <em> made </em>this?" Amanda gapes at the dress.</p><p>"Uh-huh!" Litzibitz rubs a few layers of the skirt between her fingers. "A few years ago. This is the first time I've worn it to anything, though."</p><p>"That's sick!"</p><p>Litzibitz smiles. "Do you like sewing?"</p><p>Amanda makes a face. "Well...I used to make some of my own clothes, but I didn't like the actual sewing part, you know?"</p><p>Litzibitz nods. "I didn't have much patience for it before I got my sewing machine. You said you <em> used </em>to make your own clothes?"</p><p>Amanda looks down at her hands, picks at a hangnail on her thumb. "I stopped 'cause it was too dangerous with my disease." At Litzibitz's inquiring look, she pauses to think of how to explain it. "Pararibulitis. It...makes me see and feel shit that isn’t there. Painful shit. It gets worse when I’m holding stuff, and I lose control, so I don’t wanna run a sewing machine when I could sew over my fingers or whatever.”</p><p>"That sounds terrible," Litzibitz says.</p><p>Amanda shrugs. "It's okay." It hadn't been at all okay, but now that she could kind of deal with it, her days of worrying about getting an attack while using scissors or running a sewing machine were hopefully gone. Of course, it would be hard to have a sewing machine in the Rowdy Three's van. "Anyway, yeah, I used to cut up all my old shirts and sew patches onto my jackets. Before that, I did home ec at school, back when I was preppy, and I made a few skirts and stuff."</p><p>Litzibitz nods politely, obviously a little lost. </p><p>“Home ec -- we learned how to cook and sew and stuff?”</p><p>“Oh!” Litzibitz smiles. “We don’t have anything like that. I have no idea how to cook.”</p><p>“None?” Amanda asks.</p><p>“Nope!” Litzibitz looks up as someone across the room calls her name. “I have to go, but I’d love to have you come over to our castle! You might like to see my craft room.” She catches one of Amanda’s hands in both of hers, a quick gesture that still sets Amanda’s heart a-fluttering. </p><p>After that, Amanda stays in her own corner of the couch, watching the other groups of people there. Although earlier in the banquet there’d been a good mix of Trosts and Dengdamors in each group, they’re more homogenous now. Some are getting tipsy and tilting into each other, braiding each other’s hair, talking animatedly. Farson’s drifting off, leaning against the couch on which Panto and Silas are sitting nearly in each other’s laps. Amanda waits to see if she can catch their eyes, but they’re wrapped up in each other, so eventually she gives it up and heads up to her room to get a good long sleep after the excitement of the banquet. </p><p>When Amanda goes down to breakfast the next morning, she finds a folded square of creamy parchment at her usual seat. </p><p>"That's for you," Farson leans over to say, "from Princess Litzibitz." </p><p>"Oh!” There's a nice little <em> ping! </em> of warmth in Amanda’s chest as she unfolds the note, both eyebrows raised.</p><p>
  <em> Dear Amanda! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How amazing was the banquet last night? We'd love to have you come over to the castle tomorrow, if that suits! Have Silas or Farson send us back a message by parrot, they'll know what to do.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hope to see you soon! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ♡ Litzibitz ♡ </em>
</p><p>Amanda looks up from the note to see Farson pretending not to look at it. She holds it out to him and he accepts it, skimming the note.</p><p>He cocks his head at Amanda. "That's nice. Are you gonna go?"</p><p>"Yeah, why not?" Amanda piles waffles onto her plate. "Do you guys really send messages by parrots?"</p><p>"Yes, of course. Does Earth do it differently?" </p><p>"You could say that, yeah," Amanda says, shaking her head as she drizzles her waffles with syrup.</p><p>So after breakfast they send a note back to Litzibitz. All day as Amanda practices her attacks in scissors class and her downstrokes in calligraphy class, she remembers Litzibitz's bright smiles and the way her eyes crinkled as Amanda kissed her hand -- god, she was gonna be remembering that embarrassing little thing for ages.</p><p>She's rewarded for having her head in the clouds when she takes a scissors attack right in the neck. It's kind of painful, but invigorating, and Amanda can pay attention after that. Mostly. </p><p>The next morning, Amanda goes down to the stables and has one of the stable hands saddle Buttercup for her. Eventually, she gets settled and sets off for the Trost farmlands, map in hand. </p><p>There are two guards at the entrance to the castle complex, leaning against the walls and laughing, and plenty of people stream in and out of the gates. But as Amanda approaches, both the guards snap to attention. One of them spits out the piece of grass he'd been chewing.</p><p>"What ho! Who are you? What is your business here?" one of them snaps out.</p><p>"I'm Amanda Brotzman, Litz -- Princess Litzibitz invited me here," Amanda says, gathering up Buttercup's reins and holding them close to her. </p><p>The guards exchange glances and whisper to each other.</p><p>"We haven't heard anything about that."</p><p><em> Oh shit, </em> Amanda thinks, <em> maybe I got the day wrong? </em> She should have brought the note. "Well, I mean, she did invite me..."</p><p>One of the guards shrugs and disappears into the palace complex. Amanda waits uneasily, sitting on top of Buttercup as the horse shifts her weight from hoof to hoof. </p><p>"So, uh, nice day today," she tries, and the guard grunts. So much for that. Amanda just watches the people going in and out of the gates. Many of the people going in are loaded down with animals or baskets of vegetables and grains. Some ride in on wagons. The guard doesn't so much as raise an eyebrow at any of them.</p><p>Eventually the other guard comes back and announces, "It's all good, Her Majesty's expecting a guest after all. You can put your horse in that stable," he tells Amanda, pointing over at one of the nearest outbuildings.</p><p> </p><p>Buttercup had been eyeing the grass at the edge of the path, so Amanda's glad to urge Buttercup through the gate as the guards wave her through.</p><p> </p><p>Many of the buildings are painted pale blue. Cords covered with fabric pennants stretch from tall pole to pole, and everything's covered with straw. Kids play marbles in the dust, narrowly avoiding getting stepped on by donkeys and ponies loaded down with goods. Amanda and Buttercup pick their way through the chaos and arrive safely in the stable. It's cool and quiet in there, with even more straw scattered everywhere than the outside world, but no less busy. It's thick with the now-familiar warm, furry smell of horses. Amanda figures she should probably dismount, but she's more comfortable where she can see most of the stable from her vantage point on Buttercup's back.</p><p> </p><p>From this height, actually, she can see what looks like Litzibitz down at the far end of the stable. Amanda clucks her tongue to get Buttercup to walk. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh hey, Amanda! Hi!"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Amanda swings off Buttercup's back. "What's up?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz looks down at herself. She's wearing another cowgirl outfit with a fringed shirt covered in straw and unidentified muck. "My horse just had her foal!"</p><p> </p><p>"What? Really?"</p><p> </p><p>"Come look!" Litzibitz grins and gestures inside the stall.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, there's a mare and foal inside. The mare's licking her baby clean.</p><p> </p><p>"Whoa," Amanda breathes. She's never seen a foal in person before, let alone a newborn. It looks like a tiny, four-legged alien, still mucus-y from being born.</p><p> </p><p>"She's beautiful," Litzibitz sighs, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "Wasn't the easiest birth, but it's over now!"</p><p> </p><p>When Amanda can't think of anything to say, Litzibitz claps her hands and says, "Okay! Well, I think I should take a shower. Sorry about that!" She wrinkles her nose apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>"That's chill," Amanda says. "Uh -- what should I do with -- ?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah!" Litzibitz waves at someone over Amanda's shoulder. "Tomi, can you put away this horse for us, please? Thanks!" A boy about Farson's age takes Buttercup's reins and walks her away. Amanda feels a little strange without Buttercup's big, comforting presence there behind her.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's go!"</p><p> </p><p>So they go up to Litzibitz's rooms in the castle. (Amanda keeps thinking of it as a castle, but that doesn't seem like the word; it only has one floor. But it feels weirder to call it a palace or a mansion.) It's much simpler than the Dengdamor castle, though it's still a very nice place, smelling of fresh linen and a clean breeze.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll just be a minute," Litzibitz says once they're in her rooms, ducking into what must be the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Then Amanda's alone in Litzibitz's bedroom, trying not to think about the fact that Litzibitz is naked just on the other side of the bathroom door. Her bedroom looks like a nice b&amp;b, with elegant wooden furniture and a four-poster bed. The walls are pale blue and empty of decoration, which adds to the impersonal b&amp;b feel. There aren't even clothes piled on a chair or anything. Amanda can see much more evidence that someone actually lives there through a door at the other end of the room. She isn't entirely sure she should be walking over there, but Litzibitz invited her in, after all.</p><p> </p><p>This room explodes with color. A magenta wall pops against the paler pink ones. Bolts of fabric dominate the big wooden table, the chair, the racks against the walls. Pieces of paper ripped from books plaster the walls alongside charcoal sketches. Three dressmaking mannequins in the middle of the room display half-sewn projects. Amanda's drawn to a dress that looks like all her fairy princess dreams from before she decided she hated pink. It has a full bell skirt made from overlapping fabric leaves, mostly in shades of green, but yellow and orange leaves peek out here and there. The bodice is made of flower petals in pink and orange and yellow.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you think?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda jumps.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't mean to startle you!" Litzibitz says, briskly drying her hair with a fluffy pink towel. "But what do you think?"</p><p> </p><p>"I love it." Amanda moves in closer to take a better look at the texture of the leaves. They're crinkled in places to make them look more like real leaves. "You're really good!"</p><p> </p><p>"Awh, thanks!" Litzibitz sets the towel on her desk and rummages through a drawer. "I want to put some twinkle lights in. I'll sew them under the top layer so they're not quite so obvious, but for now..." She drapes a set of twinkle lights over the dress and turns them on. Even with the sunlight pouring in, Amanda can tell that it would make the dress even more magical.</p><p> </p><p>"That looks amazing!"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz steps back and admires the dress, hands on hips. "I'm pretty happy with it! So, yes, welcome to my sewing room." She does this elegant sweeping gesture with one hand that makes Amanda acutely aware of her status as a princess.</p><p> </p><p>"This makes me want to sew again."</p><p> </p><p>"You totally could! I have so much fabric here. It would take me forever to use it all."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'll hold you to it," Amanda says, half-joking.</p><p> </p><p>"Please do." Litzibitz smiles just as a beam of sunlight falls across her face, highlighting all her freckles, and Amanda can't help but smile back, tummy fluttery.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you want tea or anything?" Litzibitz says, after a pause. "I could use a snack after the morning I’ve had."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, I’ll have some tea!"</p><p> </p><p>It takes forever to walk over to the kitchen. It's a long, narrow building of stacked rocks and mortar, separate from the rest of the castle. Cheery puffs of smoke drift out of the chimney and float off into the baby-blue sky. A waft of deliciously scented air hits them as soon as Litzibitz opens the door. It's a beehive of activity: people cook, wash dishes, and add wood to the massive fireplace.</p><p> </p><p>Someone comes up to them as soon as they've stepped inside. "Good morning, my lady! How can we help you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Can I have a cup of tea and some butter cookies, please?" Litzibitz asks, and looks at Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>"Same," Amanda says, not wanting to ask for anything special.</p><p> </p><p>"Coming right up!"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz leads Amanda over to a little sitting area in the corner with a long wooden table. They take seats opposite each other at high wooden stools carved to look like mushrooms.</p><p> </p><p>“These are sick!” Amanda says.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t they?” Litzibitz strokes the smooth wood of the stool next to her. “One of the chefs who used to work here before I was born made them.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s amazing.” So these stools are -- well, Amanda doesn’t know how old Litzibitz is. Presumably, the stools are at least twenty years old, but they don’t show it, beautifully oiled as they are. </p><p> </p><p>“Is woodworking another of your hobbies?” Litzibitz asks. She sits leaning forward towards Amanda, chin propped on her fists, elbows on the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you joking? No, not at all! That would be cool, though.” Amanda runs her fingers over the grain of the table. “I haven’t made anything in ages.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did you used to make?” </p><p> </p><p>Amanda shrugs. “Clothes. Shitty MS Paint artwork, when I wasn’t paying attention during computer class.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I don’t know what either of those are.” Litzibitz shakes her head, smiling. “I still can’t believe you’re from a whole different world! What’s that like?”</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno, what’s it like being from Wendimoor?”</p><p> </p><p>“I see what you mean. Would you just tell me what a computer is, then?”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda cracks her knuckles as she thinks. “Okay. So. Basically it’s -- well, okay. It’s a machine -- do you know what a machine is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like my sewing machine?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Yeah. So, something that does a job for you. Computers can send messages to people far away, or you can use them to write without a pen -- uh, quill, or you can look up stuff you don’t know, like...like what a machine is, or when tea was invented, or whatever.” Amanda makes a face. “I don’t even know what-all you can do with a computer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right.” Litzibitz nods thoughtfully and leans to the side to allow a cook to slide a plate of cookies in front of her. The tea comes next, gently steaming in its pot. “Thanks!” she adds, smiling at the cook.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda takes a cookie from the generous stack on the plate. It looks like a shortbread cookie, but it’s molded into the shape of a small bird, beak and all. The beak is so much smaller than the rest of the bird that it’s burned slightly, so Amanda breaks it off before popping the cookie into her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>It literally melts in her mouth, buttery and light and with just the right amount of sugar. </p><p> </p><p>“They’re amazing, right?” Litzibitz says, breaking one in half and popping it into her mouth. “I can never get enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmmph!” Amanda agrees, taking another before she’s fully swallowed the first one. They focus on eating cookies for a little while before Litzibitz pours them both tea. </p><p> </p><p>"So, do you wanna do something cool?" Litzibitz asks, smile spreading across her face.</p><p>"What is it?" Amanda asks. She'll probably do whatever it is, she's up for just about anything, but having a brother has taught her never to blindly agree to things.</p><p>"It's a surprise."</p><p>Well, Litzibitz is much more trustworthy than 12-year-old Todd. "Sure, lead the way," Amanda graciously agrees.</p><p>They walk out to the stables, where Litzibitz saddles their horses for them. After her previous misadventures with tacking up her horse, Amanda prefers to leave it to the professionals. She wraps her arms around Buttercup's neck, taking in the warm, hay-tinged scent of the horse. </p><p>Amanda has a pretty good mental map of the Trosts' land and the forest between them and the Dengdamors, but they soon leave familiar territory. The ground rises beneath their horses' hooves as they head up into the mountains. The terrain reminds Amanda of the Southwest, where she'd been with the Rowdy Three. It's all red, pink, and purple, layers upon layers of rocks and history. When Litzibitz throws a rock at her, though, Amanda discovers they're actually all marshmallow-soft.</p><p>"Can you eat these?!" Amanda asks Litzibitz, tearing the rock in half and looking at the inside, all spongy and full of tiny holes.</p><p>Litzibitz frowns. "I've never tried to eat them. Why?"</p><p>"They look just like marshmallows!"</p><p>Litzibitz opens and closes her mouth. "You have a point, but they're rocks! I don't think they're supposed to be eaten."</p><p>Amanda transfers her reins to one hand and uses the other to wipe the rock off on her shirt. She experimentally puts a corner in her mouth. It's an explosion of sugary, fruity flavor.</p><p>"Eww, Amanda!" Litzibitz squeals. "Gross!"</p><p>"If taff guud!" Amanda says through a mouthful of marshmallow.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"It's good!" Amanda grins and holds up the rock. "Just like Grandma makes."</p><p>"What?!" Litzibitz repeats, bringing her horse to a full stop and staring at Amanda. "Your grandma makes rocks?!"</p><p>Amanda laughs. "Just a little joke. It's something we say at home."</p><p>“And where did you say your home was again?”</p><p>“America. On Earth.”</p><p>Litzibitz shakes her head as she urges her horse on up the trail. "I'll never understand you America people."</p><p>"You grow burgers on trees, Litzibitz!" Amanda calls after her, laughing. "That's pretty weird!"</p><p>It's a nice ride up the ridge of the Marshmallow Mountains. The sun is out and a nice breeze ruffles Amanda's hair. From here she can see all over Inglenook, the villages and castles laid out before her like a 3D map. On the other side of the ridge, Amanda can see the Knick-Knack Highlands. They’re dotted with rock formations shaped like toys of all sizes: rocking horses, dolls, blocks...</p><p>Litzibitz brings her horse to a stop in front of a little wooden shack. "Have you ever been skydiving?" she asks, adorable dimpled smile playing over her face.</p><p>"Skydiving?! Are you kidding me?"</p><p>"Nope!" Litzibitz dismounts and ties her horse to a wooden post outside the shack. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Panto and I used to go all the time."</p><p>Amanda gets off Buttercup and gives her reins to Litzibitz to secure next to the other horse. "You guys don't have planes, do you?"</p><p>"What are planes?" Litzibitz asks, already halfway into the shack.</p><p>Amanda follows. She doesn't really want to give a full explanation of planes... "They're what we use to get high enough to skydive. Like flying..." What would the Wendimoorian equivalent be? "Kind of like your sky train."</p><p>"That's exactly what we use!" Litzibitz smiles brightly and holds out their supplies: two fabric backpacks and a complicated, tangled pile of straps. Amanda accepts one of the backpacks and turns it over in her hands. "These are our parachutes and our harness. Just put it on."</p><p>Litzibitz untangles her harness and steps into it. She holds out the straps of Amanda’s harness for her to step into. It dangles loose around her shoulders and thighs, but Litzibitz busily tightens all the straps and buckles all the buckles.</p><p>She runs Amanda through a full safety briefing, which is much more like a cartoon "count to ten and pull the cord!" than Amanda feels entirely comfortable with, but hell, Amanda left her comfort zone about the same time she met Dirk and she hasn't been back since. Skydiving back home is really expensive, so this is her chance...</p><p>"Come on, the train's almost here." Litzibitz points out the open front of the shack at the sky train, rapidly approaching the station. It pulls to a neat stop right in front of them. Litzibitz opens the door and they go inside.</p><p>It's a very smooth ride without rails and rocks to bump them around, like riding in the smoothest car ever. Amanda sticks her head out one of the windows and looks down as the train takes off, gaining altitude and leaving the mountains far behind and below them. It's an even better view from here. Amanda can see the valley stretching out like a growing green quilt, with the Dengdamors’ castle a dollhouse, the Trosts’ fields a chessboard. </p><p>Litzibitz jumps up onto a windowsill, holding the window frames on either side, and swings herself around so she's sitting with her legs dangling out over empty space. Not to be outdone, Amanda does the same. Something in her stomach swoops at the actual physical reality of dangling out over such a drop, but she swallows it down.</p><p>"We'll be high enough to jump in five minutes," Litzibitz says. "Until then, enjoy the view!" She'd left her hat with the horses, so her pink hair flies freely about her face. Her smile is a delicate but warm thing, sunshine coming through a cut glass goblet. Amanda looks away, busying herself with catching her fly-away braid and stuffing it down the back of her shirt.</p><p>When it’s nearly time, Litzibitz does up all the straps that bind them snugly together. It's kind of like spooning; high-altitude, high-speed spooning, that is. They waddle over to the door and Amanda opens it. They have to maneuver themselves down to a sitting position like an awkward four-legged race.</p><p>Once they're sitting with their legs dangling over the edge, Litzibitz asks, "Ready?"</p><p>"Hell yeah I am!"</p><p>With that, they tip over the edge</p><p> </p><p>and</p><p> </p><p>fall.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda's pretty sure the scream the wind rips from her throat is automatic more than it is a reaction to terror because this feels FUCKING AMAZING. They drop like a stone. The wind whipping past them sandblasts Amanda's face, but she doesn't care, adrenaline coursing through her body.</p><p>"THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!" she calls out, wind stealing the words from her mouth, but Litzibitz seems to know what she said and gives her a thumbs up.</p><p>The ground is so far beneath them that it doesn't seem like ground at all. There's just the air holding Amanda up from below and Litzibitz's slender frame behind her, anchoring her -- except is anchoring the right word if there's nothing supporting Amanda at all?</p><p>It's both no time at all and an eternity before Litzibitz says "Ready? Three, two, one!" and pulls the cord. There's a bit of a bounce as the parachute pulls them back up into the air a few feet, but after that it's smooth sailing. They drift through the sky like dandelion seeds in search of a new home. Litzibitz gently steers them in the direction of the mountains they came from. She looks a lot like a bird, delicate as she is, flying with her arms flung wide. </p><p>It's a few more minutes before they touch down at a giant, white-painted circle at the base of the mountains. They have to hit the ground running, and Amanda nearly rolls her ankle, but it works out alright. She laughs and reaches her arms behind her to hug Litzibitz before they've even begun to undo the harness, parachute swirled around them. Litzibitz's arms come around Amanda's waist.</p><p>"That! Was! Awesome! Can we go again?"</p><p>Litzibitz laughs. "Okay!"</p><p>She and Amanda work together to undo all the straps and buckles of the harness before heading back up the mountain. They head back to the Trosts' castle after the second round of skydiving, horses impatient for their lunch.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, you're fine," Litzibitz tells her horse affectionately, rubbing her velvety neck as she plunges her nose into her feed bucket. "Are you hungry?" she asks, turning to Litzibitz.</p><p>"Starving," Amanda realises suddenly. She extends her elbow to Litzibitz, who loops her arm through. They walk over to the kitchens arm-in-arm. The kitchen’s bustling as usual, but Litzibitz confidently leads Amanda through the hustle and bustle to the table in the corner. Panto and Silas are already there, making eyes at each other over platters of food.</p><p>“Good morning,” Panto says, smiling at them, and everyone exchanges hugs or claps on the back. Amanda and Litzibitz settle into adjacent seats next to Panto.</p><p>“My dad still doesn’t like having him around,” Litzibitz says in an undertone, gesturing at Silas with her bread roll. “I love him, but he’s a bit of a stick in the mud.”</p><p>“Who, Silas or your dad?” Amanda asks cheekily. </p><p>Litzibitz laughs and slaps her shoulder. Amanda grins and pops another slice of sharp golden cheese into her mouth.</p><p>“So what should we do this afternoon?” Litzibitz asks. </p><p>“How did you occupy your morning?” Panto cuts in.</p><p>“Skydiving, mostly.”</p><p>“Oh, I had forgotten about that! Would you like to go skydiving, my love?” Panto asks Silas, who looks queasy. “Perhaps not.”</p><p>“What else do you do around here?” Amanda asks. </p><p>“I want to do something you do on Earth!” Litzibitz says, looking up from salting her tomato slices. </p><p>“I don’t really do anything.” Amanda wrinkles her nose. “You guys don’t have cars…do you have drums?”</p><p>“Of course!” </p><p>So after Amanda’s stuffed full of cheese, bread, and fresh veggies, they go up to the Trosts’ music room. Its wooden ceiling soars up to a skylight through which the bright blue sky can be seen. </p><p>Amanda immediately goes to the drum kit in the corner. The drums are straight from the pages of a kid’s book, red and blue with criss-crossing yellow lines, but when Amanda experimentally taps the snare with one finger, it sounds just as good as her drums at home. Better, actually. </p><p>She’s barely gotten out a pair of sticks and settled into the chair before she’s absorbed into the Drum Headspace once again. Snares, cymbals, hi-hats, kick drum! Amanda’s drumsticks are her hands, and her hands and the drums are the only things that exist.</p><p>It’s a little while later that Amanda remembers that there’s someone else there. She looks up to see Litzibitz tuning a banjo. </p><p>“Earth to Amanda,” Litzibitz laughs. “You were totally zoned out! That sounded really good, though.”</p><p>“Thanks! Wait, Earth to -- ? You guys say that?!”</p><p>“Yeah!”</p><p>“Do you have any idea what it means?”</p><p>Litzibitz shrugs.</p><p>“It’s what astronauts -- wait, no, it’s what the scientists on Earth say to astronauts. You guys don’t have astronauts, right?”</p><p>“Wait, you’re from Earth like in the saying? Far out!”</p><p>“This is fucking wild,” Amanda mutters to herself, shaking her head. In a normal tone, she adds, “So what are we gonna play?”</p><p>“Would we know any of the same songs?” Litzibitz asks. </p><p>“Probably not. I’ll try to follow along with whatever you play!”</p><p>Litzibitz idly plucks the strings as she thinks. Then she plays the opening chords to --</p><p><em> “All You Need Is Love?” </em> Amanda laughs. “Oh my god.”</p><p>“You know the song?!” Litzibitz looks up from the banjo, keeping the chords going. </p><p><em> “There's nothing you can do that can't be done,” </em>Amanda sings.</p><p><em> “ </em> <em> Nothing you can sing that can't be sung,” </em>they sing together. Amanda taps out a simple rhythm on the snare before layering in the other drums. She never gets sick of the way music sweeps her along and lifts her up like a river, holding her warm and safe, letting her soul sing along with the rhythm of the universe. She tries to pay attention, though, to Litzibitz’s warm, high voice, weaving harmonies over Amanda’s lower one. They catch eyes partway through the song and grin at each other. </p><p>They follow <em> All You Need Is Love </em> with <em> Brown Eyed Girl </em> and <em> I’m a Believer </em>, then Litzibitz noodles around on the banjo while Amanda focuses in on the drums. No singing, just her feeling the rhythm through her hands, her feet, her throat, her chest. It's been far too long since she's been free like this and she never wants to stop.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Litzibitz holds up her fingers and looks at the tips. "I haven't played in a long time, look at this," she says, holding out her hand, and Amanda can see angry red lines across her fingertips from the banjo strings.</p><p> </p><p>"Ouch!" Amanda says sympathetically. She pushes her hair out of her face with both hands without letting go of the drumsticks. "That was <em> really </em> good."</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz smiles. "Yeah, it was. Thanks."</p><p> </p><p>Amanda smiles back, and her heart swells in the quiet. "So...what next?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz looks up to the skylight. It's still very light outside, though that doesn't mean much in the summer. "What time is it?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda reflexively reaches for her pocket, even though her phone isn't there. "Dunno, does it matter?"</p><p> </p><p>"We had lunch at...and then...so it's probably two o'clock," Litzibitz mutters, putting her hands on her hips. "Plenty of time for...whatever!"</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe I should be getting back?" Amanda says, feeling like things are winding down.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh! If you want to." Litzibitz holds her hands behind her back. "You'll have to come back soon!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, of course!"</p><p> </p><p>"I really like your jacket. I've never seen one like it before!" Litzibitz says, as they're walking down to the stable.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, thanks!" Amanda reflexively looks down at her jacket and tugs on the zipper. It's been too warm for it, of course, but lately, it's served as a security blanket.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know how you came to be here, but...did you bring enough clothes with you?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda shakes her head. "I had no idea I was gonna come here. I just have these, and this hood thing Wakti gave me."</p><p> </p><p>"Would you like to get some more? You can come by sometime soon and have our tailor make you some things!"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, cool!" Amanda exchanges a smile with Litzibitz. She likes her own clothes, of course, but curtsying in them during the dance lesson had emphasized just how out of place she was in them. Also, how sick would they look when she got home? She'd probably keep a couple just as they were, but maybe one or two she could rip the skirts off to make short dresses so the skirts wouldn't get in her way, and rip the sleeves off, too. She could definitely make this work.</p><p> </p><p>Buttercup is down in the stable amongst the rest of the horses, some of whom have pink manes. Seeing them only makes Amanda more curious about the whole pink hair thing, but it doesn't seem like something she can ask just yet. She holds her hand out to one of the horses. This one is pale pink all over except for a white star on her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>"That's Tulip," Litzibitz says. She grabs a carrot from a tall stack of them, flips it up, and catches it, like Amanda tries to do with her drumsticks (she hasn't quite gotten there yet). She offers the carrot to Amanda, who takes it and holds it out to Tulip. The horse brushes her velvety lips over Amanda's hand as she takes the carrot between her teeth.</p><p> </p><p>"She's beautiful," Amanda says. It's funny how fast her opinions on horses have changed. They're still not exactly her favorite animal; they're funny things, easily startled, and they could step on her foot and break all her bones. But for all that, there's something very appealing about them, their quiet, steady gaze and soft coats.</p><p> </p><p>"I learned how to ride on her." Litzibitz rubs Tulip's neck and the horse leans into her hand. Litzibitz pats her neck. "I think she's older than I am!"</p><p> </p><p>"Really?" Amanda looks incredulously between the horse and the woman. "How old are you?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz tilts her cowgirl hat back on her head and lifts her chin at Amanda, propping her hands on her hips. "How old do I look?"</p><p> </p><p>Oh no, not this old game. But there's some undercurrent to Litzibitz's tone that intrigues Amanda all the same. "Young for a person, old for a horse," Amanda says, and winks.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz's eyebrows knit together for an instant before they relax and she laughs. "Good answer." She settles her hat back onto her head with both hands. "I'm 25, for the record."</p><p> </p><p>"So am I," Amanda replies, and it feels like meeting someone new in elementary school, swapping biographical info and favorite colors.</p><p> </p><p>"Cool." They exchange slightly awkward smiles. Litzibitz swipes imaginary dust from one thigh of her chaps. "So do you know how to put your own saddle on yet?"</p><p> </p><p>"No," Amanda admits, grateful for the change in subject.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. It's pretty easy." Litzibitz picks up Buttercup's saddle blanket and slings it over her back, adjusting it until it sits evenly. She lifts the saddle in one smooth motion and settles it onto the saddle blanket. Amanda's never really been into the whole cowboy thing, but she feels a momentary stab of appreciation for a woman who can make it look easy to saddle a horse whose back is as tall as she is. Amanda walks towards the pair of them and Tulip noses at her back, perhaps hoping for more carrots.</p><p> </p><p>"Look, it's just like doing a belt." Litzibitz threads the girth of the saddle through the buckle and secures it. "You try." She undoes the buckle with quick hands and steps back, letting Amanda do up the belt. She doesn't do it as quickly, but it isn't hard. Amanda feels kind of accomplished.</p><p>Litzibitz picks up Buttercup's bridle and drapes it over her arm. "Easy! Now it's time for the bit. They don't like this part so much." She settles the reins over Buttercup’s neck and puts her thumb in Buttercup’s mouth, guiding the bit between her teeth. She slides the rest of the bridle over Buttercup’s face.</p><p>"And then you're all set!" She smiles at Amanda, hands on hips, holding Buttercup's reins in one fist.</p><p>Something tugs at Amanda, just a little bit, but enough for her to notice that she doesn't want to leave yet. She shuffles her feet in the dirt floor and doesn't move.</p><p>"Alright?" Litzibitz hands her Buttercup's reins.</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Amanda shakes her head. "Uh, thanks for inviting me over! And showing me how to do the saddle. That's a good thing to know." She feels like she's babbling, which is totally irrational.</p><p>"Anytime!" Litzibitz smiles brightly. "I hope you can come over again soon!"</p><p>"I'm sure I will." Amanda smiles. She looks up at Buttercup, who gazes at her with one big brown eye. "See you later!"</p><p>"See you later!" Litzibitz echoes.</p><p>Amanda turns Buttercup around and walks her out of the stable. She finds a nice rock out of Litzibitz's line of sight from which to clamber awkwardly up onto Buttercup's back. After that their ride goes pretty smoothly. Buttercup really is the perfect beginner horse, with enough of a mind of her own to take over from a clueless rider, but agreeable enough to do whatever the rider wants her to. Amanda alternates between cantering and walking for most of the ride, stopping at a little creek to let Buttercup get a drink partway through. Then Buttercup wants some grass, and Amanda knows technically she shouldn't let her, but Buttercup deserves it.</p><p>Amanda leaves Buttercup to her own devices and wanders around the edge of the clearing. She sees a furry little creature in a bush not far from her, holding stock-still. Its eyes shine through the shadows cast over it from the bush. It looks like a rabbit or something, but not quite right. Maybe more like a hare? The deserty kind? Amanda crouches down, slowly, and makes kissy noises at it. The hare's nose twitches, but it doesn't move. As Amanda's eyes adjust to the dark of the bush, she realises that what she'd taken for branches above the hare's head are actually antlers. It's a jackalope!</p><p>"Aw, sick," she says to herself, and the jackalope takes that as its cue to run, breaking twigs under its paws. Buttercup snorts, and when Amanda turns to look, she's got her keen brown eyes fixed on the jackalope.</p><p>"Just a bunny, girl," Amanda says, but Buttercup remains alert. Amanda sits back down on the grass and watches her surroundings, wondering if there are any more animals around. She has to push past waves of boredom, but when it finally clicks for her, she kind of wants to stay there forever. A gentle breeze plays with her hair, clouds cast gentle shadows as they pass overhead, and the meadow smells like flowers.</p><p>Amanda suddenly remembers that horses aren't supposed to eat with their bit in. She races back to Buttercup and wrenches her head up, taking her bit off gently. It's already green and sticky with mashed up grass.</p><p>"Ew," Amanda says, dropping it on the grass. "Sorry, girl." She pats Buttercup's neck in apology.  </p><p> </p><p>Amanda wipes the bit off on the grass. She's not fussy about dirt on her clothes, but horse spit-mashed grass is a different kettle of fish.</p><p> </p><p>Then something slams into Amanda. She catches herself before she falls and looks up to see Buttercup running away at top speed.</p><p>"Buttercup!" she calls, panicked. She looks around and sees a long black snake winding its way through the meadow. Torn between standing still to avoid provoking the snake and running after Buttercup, she stays still, though she makes sure to note the direction in which Buttercup fled. Once the snake settles onto a big flat rock to get some sun, Amanda runs after Buttercup.</p><p>"Buttercup! Here, Buttercup!" Amanda calls. "Come on, where are you?"</p><p>It isn't difficult to follow the hoofprints in the dusty parts of the forest floor. Buttercup hadn't run far, either. Amanda finds her standing between two trees, head high and ears on full alert.</p><p>"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Amanda says, approaching slowly. Buttercup rotates one ear towards her. "Here, can we put your bridle on?" She runs her hand over Buttercup's face. The horse lets Amanda pull the straps of the bridle over Buttercup’s head and ears.</p><p>"Let's go back, huh?" Amanda asks, making sure she has a secure grip on the reins. She tries to lead Buttercup towards a rock she can mount up from, but Buttercup is reluctant to move. "I won't let the snake hurt you, girl." Amanda steps onto a knot on the trunk of one of the trees and swings over onto Buttercup's back. After that, it's easy going for a while. They get into the thicker part of the forest, where less light filters through the canopy. Amanda almost expects some magical creature to step out from behind the trees.</p><p>At some point she comes across a tree that's fallen across the path, blocking their way. It's a hefty tree, too big to step over, and Amanda definitely isn't comfortable asking Buttercup to jump it, even if she knew how high a horse could jump. She turns Buttercup around and backtracks until she finds a patch of forest thin enough for her to go off-road. The path was straight enough that she was pretty sure she could find her way back to it just past the fallen trunk, but she wishes she had a compass or something.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, she doesn’t mind a detour. Birds chirp in the canopy. Flowered vines sprawl across tree trunks. It is a very cheerful place, even in the low light. Buttercup obediently picks her way through the woods, ears relaxed.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda can see something in the distance that doesn't look quite natural. She turns Buttercup in that direction and squints, trying to get a better idea of what it is. It isn't long before she can see that it's a little wood cabin squished between two giant boulders like the filling in a sandwich. The walls are painted with moss, the roof with lichen, and vines weave their way up the boulders and onto the roof. The little windows in front have a few panes of glass left, though the rest are smashed, leaving jagged edges of triangular teeth in their frames. The front door is streaked with remnants of red paint. It sags into the dirt, relinquishing its hold on its hinges.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda loves it at once.</p><p> </p><p>She dismounts and hooks Buttercup's reins over a nearby branch before approaching the house. It's clearly abandoned, but she still calls out: "Hello? Is anyone home?" When there's no response, she stoops to enter the cottage. </p><p> </p><p>Windows in the back wall let in a little slanting green light, illuminating the dusty wooden floorboards and sloping countertop. There are places on the floor that look more worn than others, perhaps where previous inhabitants walked the most or where they put their furniture, but it's otherwise empty. There are no side walls: it's built perfectly up against the neighboring boulders. Amanda walks over to one wall and runs her hands over the rough stone. There are holes and pockmarks in it, as though whoever had lived here had hung things on the walls. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda walks out the back door and looks around. There are fence poles back there and a few crossbars on the ground, covered with moss, and the remnants of a well made from stacked stones. Amanda leans over the edge of the well and looks down at the water far below. She can barely see her reflection.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello!" she calls, listening to her voice echo back at her from the bottom of the well. "Hello!"</p><p> </p><p>She enjoys the little house for a few minutes more before rejoining Buttercup. It isn't hard to find her way back to the path, and once she's done that, it's an easy ride back to the palace.</p><p> </p><p>She finds Farson at dancing lessons and tells him about the house.</p><p> </p><p>"I wanna go back," she says. "It was so cute!"</p><p> </p><p>Farson makes a face. "Was it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah! We should take some blankets out there. Fairy lights. Have a campfire and roast some s'mores."</p><p> </p><p>"I do like s'mores," Farson muses. "Okay, why not? I'll go with you."</p><p> </p><p>So Amanda spends the rest of the afternoon getting together supplies to make a nice little fort in the abandoned cabin. Pink fuzzy blankets and fairy lights do detract from the abandoned aesthetic, Amanda thinks. Though she loves the derelict look during the day, she'll probably think differently at night when it's cold and they're in the middle of an unfamiliar forest.</p><p> </p><p>"Let's invite Litzibitz," she suggests, just before they're about to go. Farson has her scribble out a note and gives it to a parrot to fly over to the Trost lands.</p><p> </p><p>The cabin is lovely with a little bit of company. Farson helps Amanda drape the whole thing with blankets, making it cozy and warm. It's summer, but even so, they are in the deepest part of the forest. Farson tells her it can get cold at night. Finally, they go to set up the fire. Amanda had thought they could get wood out in the forest, but it takes a while to find firewood that's dry all the way through, and she'd forgotten matches.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz arrives just as Amanda's shoved her hands in her armpits and started to regret everything. She waves merrily as she approaches on Tulip.</p><p> </p><p>"Hail and well met!" Farson says, coming over to her.</p><p> </p><p>"Hail and well met! Where can I put my horse?"</p><p> </p><p>They put all their horses together in the fenced area, though the fence isn't much protection. They tie the horses' leads to fence posts. Then Litzibitz joins them in the search for firewood. They find enough for a small fire, and between them find a stone they can strike a knife against to start a fire. It all feels very -- Bear Grylls? Is that the guy Amanda’s thinking of? It makes roasting marshmallows over the fire even more satisfying. It’s kind of funny that Wendimoor has marshmallows and knows about s'mores, Amanda thinks, but then again this world was created by a little boy.</p><p> </p><p>"I haven't made s'mores in...oh...ten years?" Litzibitz says, plucking her marshmallow from the end of her stick, leaving a trail of white goo. She pops it straight into her mouth, making a face as the hot sugar burns the roof of her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>"That isn't a s'more, that's just a marshmallow," Amanda points out. She rotates her stick so the other side of her marshmallow can get toasted.</p><p> </p><p>"'M too 'mpatient," Litzibitz says through a mouth of marshmallow. She reaches forward to snap a piece of chocolate off the block.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda hasn't had a s'more in years, either, or at least not a real one. She'd made microwave s'mores a couple times while pararibulitis kept her indoors. She can wait just a few more minutes, probably --</p><p> </p><p>-- nope. Like Icarus, held too close to the flames, her marshmallow catches fire. Amanda instinctively drops the stick and watches as it, too, goes up in flames.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that's a shame," Farson says. He's infinitely patient, so of course his marshmallow has a beautiful golden blush.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't like marshmallows that much anyway," Amanda admits. "There isn't really anything going on with them, you know?" It's half true. She likes them, but it's not as though they're her absolute favorite or anything. She leans over and picks up one of their backup sticks. "Marshmallow me?"</p><p> </p><p>Farson passes Amanda a marshmallow and she skewers it on the end of her new stick.</p><p> </p><p>"S'more two-point-oh," she says.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz is on her second marshmallow, too. It's barely toasted at all before she slides it off the stick and pops it onto a chocolate'd graham.</p><p>"Do you guys, like, <em> make </em>these? Like in your kitchens?" Amanda asks, looking at the graham crackers. They're in plastic sleeves, but it's not like Amanda's seen any factories around.</p><p>"No, how would we do that?" Litzibitz says, sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she squishes her marshmallow between two crackers. "They grow on trees."</p><p>This is such a nonsensical response that Amanda looks at Farson, who nods. He brings the marshmallow end of his stick close to his eyes so he can check on his marshmallow, which isn't quite done. He holds it over the fire again. "We have tons of stuff that grows on trees," he says, which doesn't really explain anything.</p><p>"Does it grow in plastic?!" Amanda exclaims.</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Amanda reaches for one of the sleeves and holds it up so she can examine it more closely. It had looked like normal plastic at a glance, but now she can see that it's faintly green and has a rougher texture than the plastic she's used to.</p><p>"Bizarre," she murmurs.</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>They each have a few s'mores before giving up and just watching the fire burn down to embers. Amanda never gets tired of campfires. There’s something magical about a fire outside, warming whatever is close to the fire while your back is still cold. She loves the smell of smoke, too.</p><p>After the fire burns out they go into the little fort and turn on the fairy lights Amanda brought from the castle. It's snug in there, too snug after standing outside under the stars. Amanda throws a blanket over her shoulders and scrambles up the boulders to the top. She eases herself down until she's resting on the rock, head pillowed on her blanket, looking up at the sky. She can't see much of it from between the leaves, but what she can see is darker than any sky she'd seen on Earth, with brighter stars. She can see a fragment of the big weird moon, too.</p><p>There are footsteps and Amanda sits up slightly to see Litzibitz climbing up the rock, draped in a purple blanket.</p><p>"Can I join you?"</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>There's a few moments of shuffling around while Litzibitz gets comfortable, then there's a nice silence broken only by their gentle breathing. Amanda wonders if she should say anything. She's happy just to be quiet and take in the night with Litzibitz’s gentle company. High up above she sees what must be bats swooping from tree to tree.</p><p>Eventually, though, the quiet gets to Amanda, and she casts about for something to say.</p><p>"Have you ever camped out like this before?" she asks. She picks little balls of fluff off her blanket while she waits for Litzibitz to answer.</p><p>"Once or twice, maybe." Litzibitz sighs. "Not since my mom died."</p><p>Amanda had pieced together that their mom wasn’t around, but it hadn't actually been said before. She doesn't know how to respond.</p><p>"That sucks," she says frankly, keeping her eyes on the sky.</p><p>"Yeah, it does."</p><p>Quiet falls, and Amanda picks at her thumbnail, wondering if she'd said the wrong thing.</p><p>"Sometimes it's like I forget I ever had a mom, and I feel terrible about it, obviously. It just feels like I'm a terrible daughter for forgetting her, you know? But other days when my dad's being annoying--" Litzibitz cuts off her sudden flow of words.</p><p>"What?" Amanda turns her head to look at Litzibitz, her ear now resting against the boulder, still warm with retained sunlight.</p><p>"Sometimes I wish my dad had died instead," Litzibitz whispers, and Amanda feels her stomach drop in a deeply felt sympathy. Litzibitz turns her head to face Amanda, though she doesn't meet her gaze, eyes and eyebrows pointed down.</p><p>"You're allowed to wish that," Amanda says, just as softly. "It's not like I've never wished one of my relatives would fuck off and die."</p><p>At that Litzibitz cracks a smile and looks up at Amanda, doe eyes reflecting the stars above them. "Which ones?"</p><p>"Oh my god, don't get me <em> started. </em>Aunt Nina and Uncle Johnny and even my parents sometimes. One time my mom called me Amanda Panda-bo-banda in front of my friends, and I wanted both of us to get wiped off the face of the planet."</p><p>Litzibitz laughs. "I would have too."</p><p>Amanda smiles ruefully. "At least it’s funny now, I guess.”</p><p>"What's your mom like?"</p><p>Amanda takes in a deep breath and lets it out while she thinks. "I mean, I don't know how to describe people, but she's nice. She loves me. But she tries <em> so hard, </em>you know? She tries so hard to be the perfect mom or the perfect wife. She's always baking and shit. And she just has this shaky smile when she's trying to impress but she's not sure she's doing it right. I just wanna shake her and tell her she doesn't have anything to prove."</p><p>Litzibitz hums. "That sounds a little like my dad. Especially because my mom was the one everyone loved, he feels like he has to be just as loved? To make up for her being gone? It sucks. I just want my old dad back again."</p><p>Amanda meets Litzibitz's eyes. "I bet he's still in there somewhere. You just have to figure out where."</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"I dunno. Play a game with him or ask him what he wants to do for fun or something. I don't know him, but you do."</p><p>Litzibitz nods. "That's true," she says, rubbing her chin. "He always used to love Imbroglio. I could ask him if he wants to play."</p><p>"What's Imbroglio?"</p><p>"Oh, it's great, I love it! You roll dice and whatever the dice land on tells you what to do. You can take other people's dice away and sometimes you get rid of your own dice. It's super chaotic."</p><p>"Sounds fun."</p><p>"Did you play many games when you were a kid?"</p><p>"Nah, we were more outdoor kids. We'd have the slip'n'slide out all summer, that kind of thing. I loved the slip'n'slide!"</p><p>"What's a slip'n'slide?"</p><p>"You, like, put a long piece of plastic down on the ground and get it wet with the hose. You can run the hose through it, too, and it sprays water on you as you go down it. Anyway, you, like, run up to it and flop onto your stomach and slide down it."</p><p>"I can't quite picture it," Litzibitz says, knitting her eyebrows, "but I'll take your word for it."</p><p>"Maybe we could make one and set it up at the castle!"</p><p>"Okay, sure!"</p><p>They exchange lingering smiles. Amanda eventually rolls her head back up to look at the stars. There's just something about them that keeps drawing her attention.</p><p>"You really like stars, huh?" Litzibitz asks. She adjusts her blanket around her shoulders and wiggles closer to Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda keeps her gaze on the sky. "Yeah. I do." She bites her lip as she gathers her thoughts. "I...I saw...stars remind me of the, like, backstage of the universe. I went there with my brother, and it looked kind of like this."</p><p> </p><p>Amanda sighs and wiggles her own shoulders under her blanket, trying to get more comfortable on the boulder. "I haven't really gotten to control my own life much, you know? With the disease and the money and shit. But seeing this...it feels like maybe there is someone, or something, in control, and things will be okay."</p><p> </p><p>It's funny -- Amanda's never said that to anyone before. She'd barely even articulated it to herself. But something about Litzibitz, and the easy way she'd shared about her parents, made it easy for Amanda to share, too.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you think is in control?" Litzibitz asks softly, not quite a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda closes her eyes and shrugs against the rock beneath them. "No idea. We didn't go to church or anything like that. But I've <em> seen </em>shit, you know? Like, where do my visions come from? There's something out there."</p><p> </p><p>"Visions?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. I can't...I dunno how to explain 'em, I just see things that I might see later? Or I might not. Don't have a fucking clue. Wakti's been teaching me, but she doesn't know either. Or she just isn’t telling me."</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz lets out a little sigh. "Well, apparently my whole world was made up by a little boy. I can't speak for your world, though."</p><p> </p><p>Amanda laughs. "Sometimes I think our world makes just as much sense as this one. Less, even."</p><p>When they finally go into the fort, Farson's lightly dozing, his chin on his chest. He wakes as they come in.</p><p>"Sorry!" Amanda whispers.</p><p>"'S okay," he says, rubbing his eyes. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a box. "Look, I brought Imbroglio."</p><p>"Oh, I love that game! This was the one I was talking about, Amanda.” Litzibitz settles down, cross-legged, next to Amanda, and tucks her blanket in around her feet. She rubs her hands together rapidly and grins a sharp toothy grin. "Prepare to see me triumph!"</p><p>"Oh, is that right?" Farson teases. He opens the box and takes out a set of dice. Amanda picks one of them up and looks at the colorful carvings of animals on each side.</p><p>Amanda just watches for the first two rounds, since Litzibitz and Farson assure her it's easier to pick it up by watching than to have it explained, but she's not so sure. They move quickly, rolling dice at the same time, grabbing each other's dice, and setting their own dice in the middle. They don't talk much, but they do say words like 'dag nabbit' and other words Amanda hasn't heard since she was, like, nine.</p><p> </p><p>"I think I still need an explanation," Amanda says once they turn to her expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. So basically you just roll all your dice. Lion means you can take one of the other person's dice, giraffe means you lose one of yours, rhino means the lost dice in the middle are up for grabs and you take as many as you can. And it all stacks -- so if you roll five lions, you take five of the other person's dice. Whoever runs out of dice first loses." Farson explains. Litzibitz nods.</p><p> </p><p>"What about the side with a dot?" Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>"Those don't do anything."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. I think I get it." Amanda ticks the sides off on her fingers. "Lion -- you eat the other person's dice, giraffe gets eaten, rhino charges in and makes it all chaotic."</p><p> </p><p>"Exactly," Farson says, nodding. "You got it!"</p><p> </p><p>"So there's no strategy?"</p><p> </p><p>Farson and Litzibitz exchange glances.</p><p> </p><p>"Sometimes there is. If you're running low on dice you want to roll yours slower," Litzibitz says.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Amanda nods. "I can do this!" She receives her set of five dice. Each of them take up their dice in both hands and look around the circle at each other.</p><p> </p><p>"Ready, set, GO!" they say together.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda rolls her first set of die. Lion, lion, giraffe, dot, dot. "Do I have to take the two dice from the same person?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nope!" Litzibitz says, yoinking one of Farson's dice.</p><p> </p><p>"Cool." Amanda takes a die from each of them and sets one of hers in the middle. She rolls again: giraffe, giraffe, lion, lion, dot, dot. She reaches over to take two of Farson's dice. Litzibitz swoops in and takes all three of his and one of Amanda’s before Amanda can get any.</p><p> </p><p>"HEY!" Farson complains. "Why are you ganging up on me?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Four lions, witch!" Litzibitz says, pointing two finger guns down at her dice.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, you could take some of Amanda's!"</p><p> </p><p>"Don't look at me, I'm new here!" Amanda exclaims.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, alright, I guess you got me," he says, holding both hands in the air. "Watch out, Litzibitz is a stone-cold murderer!" he stage-whispers to Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>"You're on," she says, grinning at Litzibitz.</p><p> </p><p>"Game on!"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda puts her two giraffes in the middle and takes two from Litzibitz. She re-rolls her five dice. Giraffe, giraffe, dot, lion, lion, RHINO! There are six dice in the middle and Amanda only gets one. Litzibitz smiles like a shark as she rerolls her dice -- so many she has to use both hands, clasped loosely around the dice and barely keeping them all together. Amanda's got five, though, which is respectable.  It’s what she started out with, after all. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda has the advantage over Litzibitz that her dice are faster to count. Three lions and two dots -- she's taken three of Litzibitz's dice and rerolled her eight dice before Litzibitz has had time to do anything. Dice zoom back and forth between them and the space in the middle. All of them, including Silas, shout when there's a rhino and dice go flying. Litzibitz's ring smacks painfully against one of Amanda's fingers, but there's no time to complain as Amanda snatches the dice from beneath Litzibitz's nose.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, four of the fifteen dice have been scattered amongst the pillows on either side of them. Litzibitz has six and Amanda has five. Both of them collapse onto the pillows behind them, laughing and breathing hard.</p><p> </p><p>"You guys are ridiculous," Farson says, shaking his head.</p><p> </p><p>"Good game!"</p><p> </p><p>"Good game," Litzibitz agrees. "Shall we do it again?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz takes off her ring and they play several more rounds. Eventually, they wind down and put the dice away, settling onto their individual piles of pillows.</p><p> </p><p>"I've never done this before," Litzibitz says, the twinkle lights reflecting as tiny stars in her dark eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Slept in a pillow fort?"</p><p> </p><p>"Slept in a pillow fort, slept out in a cabin in the woods, had a little gathering with friends like this..." Litzibitz waves one hand to indicate the room. "Sometimes Panto and I would sleep in the same room and stay up late, but it doesn't feel the same."</p><p> </p><p>"Why didn't you make pillow forts?" Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>"We made pillow forts, but whenever it was time for bed someone made us put them away."</p><p> </p><p>Farson nods sleepily from his pile of pillows. "We weren't even allowed to make them."</p><p> </p><p>"How did you know what I meant by pillow fort?" Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>"We tried to make one when we were little, but Mama stopped us. But when I was fifteen we decided to make one anyway. Mama didn't find out because we locked the doors." Farson smiles sleepily.</p><p> </p><p>"Good," Litzibitz declares. "I like this."</p><p> </p><p>"So you guys have never had a sleepover?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz and Farson look at each other and shrug. "Guess not."</p><p> </p><p>"I have to teach you how to play MASH."</p><p> </p><p>"MASH?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's this stupid game we always used to play that told us who we'd marry and where we'd live and how many kids we'd have and whatever. We don't have any paper, do we?"</p><p> </p><p>"I have the note," Litzibitz says, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from her pocket. "I don't have a quill, though."</p><p> </p><p>"Me either."</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, we'll just write in the dirt." Amanda clears a space for them to play and picks up a twig from outside. "Who wants to start?"</p><p> </p><p>They play rock-paper-scissors to see who starts since both Farson and Litzibitz are intrigued but nervous. Farson loses.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, who do you wanna marry?" Amanda asks. She writes down his nominations and asks Litzibitz for a suggestion to put in the 'would rather not marry' spot. "Where do you want to live?"</p><p> </p><p>It quickly becomes obvious that it isn't a great game to play in such a small, under-populated world, and especially not with a prince and a princess who probably have to live in a castle, either their own or their future spouse's. They decide to put four bad options and one good one instead of the other way around. For places to live, Amanda writes, 'in a slimy cave,' 'in the sky train,' 'in a dollhouse in the Knick-Knack Highlands,' and 'in a sandcastle.' Litzibitz eagerly contributes her ideas for bad careers and bad wedding spots.</p><p> </p><p>"I think your future looks great," Amanda says, when it's been determined that Farson will marry one of Litzibitz's cousins in a ceremony in a ravine and live in a slimy cave. The happy couple will have twenty-five children and a pet bear. The only one of Farson's suggestions that made it through was that he would work as a dance tutor to future royal children.</p><p> </p><p>"Great," Farson grumbles, hiding his head under a pillow. "I'm really looking forward to it."</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, help me get your revenge on Litzibitz," Amanda says, rubbing her hand over their writings to give them a fresh slate.</p><p> </p><p>"My friends call me Zizi," Litzibitz says, touching Amanda's elbow to get her attention. "'Cause Litzibitz is so long."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, okay! Zizi." Amanda smiles at her, fireflies twinkling in her tummy, before returning to MASH. "Who are we making Litz -- Zizi marry?"</p><p> </p><p>Farson gives Litzibitz the stink eye before listing off some more people Amanda doesn't know. One of them makes Litzibitz wince.</p><p> </p><p>"Who do you wanna marry?" Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz traces one of her fingers in a circle in the dirt, around, and around, and around. "Bigby," she says eventually. "We had Panto ‘marry’ us when we were eight."</p><p> </p><p>"Nice," Amanda says, writing it down, and something unpleasant wriggles around in her tummy.</p><p> </p><p>She has to enlist Farson's help for places to live that she hasn't already used. For careers, though, she can get creative: horse shit shoveler, graham cracker harvester, trash collector.</p><p> </p><p>"Horse...poop...shoveler?" Litzibitz says, wrinkling her nose. "You know I already do that sometimes, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"But I bet you wouldn't like having to do it all the time," Amanda says. "Now how many kids does Zizi not want to have, Farson?"</p><p> </p><p>"One hundred thousand," he declares.</p><p> </p><p>"That's one baby a day for..." Amanda pauses to do the math in her head. "Over 250 years. Nice! That's the spirit!"</p><p> </p><p>"I was not <em> that </em> mean to you, Farson," Litzibitz says.</p><p> </p><p>Farson just smiles cheekily.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz will marry one of her father's political advisors in the gazebo in their fruit orchard (one of Litzibitz's suggestions); they'll honeymoon out in the Powdered Sugar Wastes, where apparently the sugar storms never die down, before settling into their shack at the bottom of the ocean, where they will have one kid (also Litzibitz's suggestion) and thirty pet wasps.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm really looking forward to that," Litzibitz sighs. "Can't wait!"</p><p> </p><p>"I think living underwater would be kind of cool if you had a way to breathe," Amanda admits.</p><p> </p><p>"I think so too!" Farson says. "You could swim with the dolphins every day!"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda wipes the dirt clean again and drops the blanket over it.</p><p> </p><p>"We're not going to do yours?" Farson says.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know much about Wendimoor and you guys don't know anything about Earth."</p><p> </p><p>"That's true."</p><p> </p><p>After that, they start to settle down to sleep. It's a bit chilly, but they've all been under blankets long enough that it's just their faces that are cold. Talk drops off slowly as they all get sleepy.</p><p> </p><p>"'Manda?" Litzibitz murmurs.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks. For today. For the pillow fort."</p><p> </p><p>"You're welcome," Amanda whispers back, "and thank <em> you, </em> Zizi." She opens her eyes and watches Litzibitz’s eyes flutter closed, long pink eyelashes casting shadows across her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda's still warm when she wakes up the next morning, but her face is chilly. The light coming through the broken windows is cold and gray. The birds outside are clearly awake, but Amanda doesn't want to be, so she rolls over and goes back to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>When she wakes up again, feeling more prepared to face the day, Farson isn't in the cabin. Litzibitz is almost fully buried in her blankets, just a tuft of messy pink hair sticking out of the top of her blanket burrito. Amanda snuggles back into her blankets for a few moments before getting up, keeping herself wrapped up and warm. She leaves the cabin to see Farson crouching over the firepit from last night, coaxing a tiny flame into life. His damp hair is flat against his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>"Morning,” Amanda yawns. “Did you go for a swim?" </p><p> </p><p>"I just got my hair wet." Farson sinks back onto his heels as the fire catches on the bigger twigs. "Want some breakfast?"</p><p> </p><p>They retrieve their bag of food from the cabin and get started making a campfire meal: tucking eggs into the embers, spearing pieces of bacon on sticks and roasting them like marshmallows, wrapping dough in tin foil and snuggling it close to the eggs. It all smells delicious, though Amanda suspects it might be because she's running on the fumes of s'mores and nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>"Where'd you learn how to do this?" she asks Farson.</p><p> </p><p>“I learned from watching the Kellum Knights.”</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, right.”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda doesn't know if she should go wake Litzibitz or not. Amanda can't even decide if she would want to be woken up in this situation: does eating a delicious, hot breakfast outweigh the annoyance of getting woken up? She's just decided to go check on her friend when Litzibitz comes through the door of the cabin, rubbing her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Goo' mornin'," she yawns, running one hand through her messy hair.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Amanda laughs. Though she's already started to see Litzibitz as more than just a princess, seeing her so tired really drives home the point that she’s a person, too.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz comes over and leans against Amanda's side, tipping her head onto Amanda's shoulder. "Wha's for breakfast?"</p><p> </p><p>"Eggs are done!" Farson announces, picking one up. </p><p> </p><p>"Ouch!" He drops the egg and it splatters on the ground. "Oops."</p><p> </p><p>"Guess we shouldn't touch the eggs that were literally just in the fire," Amanda says, "who woulda thought?"</p><p> </p><p>They find seats on logs around the fire, with Litzibitz next to Amanda on her log and Farson on a log next to them. They get the eggs and bread rolls out of the ashes and slide the rashers of bacon off their roasting sticks. They didn't think to bring silverware, so they eat with their hands, laughing through the whole messy process. When they’re done they go to a nearby stream to wash the bacon grease off their hands.</p><p> </p><p>“That was really nice,” Litzibitz says, kneeling on the ground as she dries her hands on the grass. “I’d like to do that again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too,” the others agree.  </p><p> </p><p>“I told Silas I’d help him with some stuff today,” Farson says, “so I guess I should go!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thanks for hanging out, dude!” Amanda throws her arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair. He half-heartedly fights her off before going to saddle their horses.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you again soon, Amanda?” Litzibitz asks, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely!” They grin at each other, going in for a hug. Litzibitz’s hair smells clean and flowery, somehow exactly the scent Amanda would have expected if she’d been thinking about it. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda’s exhaustion hits as she’s making her way back to the castle with Farson. She slumps down in the saddle, letting Buttercup do her thing, and yawns. Farson’s quiet, too, though he glances at her from time to time. She feels more wakeful after a strong cup of tea and scissors lessons. Even so, she trips during an overambitious lunge and rips another hole in the knees of her jeans. </p><p> </p><p>“Guess I’ll have to visit the tailor soon,” she mutters, brushing dirt from her knees. </p><p> </p><p>She takes a bath after the lesson and braids her hair out of her face before sending Litzibitz a note asking when she can visit the castle again. Farson shows her where to find the trained parrots to send the note to the other castle. Litzibitz responds not long after saying the next day would be perfect.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning’s visit to the Trosts’ castle goes much better than the first one. The guards recognize Amanda and wave her through as soon as she approaches. She finds someone to take care of Buttercup before heading up to the castle. Litzibitz is in high spirits, practically bouncing as she walks and gesturing expansively with her hands as she talks.</p><p> </p><p>"This is so exciting! What kind of clothes do you want?"</p><p> </p><p>"I have no idea!"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz pulls a big book down from the shelf of the tailor's room, a lovely space with a skylight letting in plenty of pale golden sunlight. She sets it down on the table and flicks through it, showing Amanda a dizzying variety of styles. There are full-skirted dresses and fitted dresses, doublets and jerkins, all kinds of pants, blouses with every kind of sleeve imaginable.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you see something you like?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda points to a few different patterns, including a long-sleeved blouse, high-waisted pants with buttons running down the side seams, a cropped jacket, and a simple, square tunic. </p><p> </p><p>"I love the jacket! Now we get to choose fabrics.” Litzibitz sweeps one arm across the room to indicate the racks and racks of fabrics. They seem to be available in every colour and texture imaginable. Amanda takes down several rolls of fabrics. Not all of them are gray or black; to her surprise, she picks out a navy blue, a deep, earthy orange, and two shades of green. She and Litzibitz load their arms full of rolls of fabric and carry them all over to the table. They spend a few minutes matching fabrics to patterns, thinking about which tops Amanda would pair with which pants.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz gets up from the table and pokes her head through a door into the back room. "He's busy, but we can just get started on our own!" She waves Amanda through the door. There's a wizened old man taking someone's measurements in one corner of the room. His assistants chatter brightly as they cut out pattern pieces and sew hems at the massive wooden table. Litzibitz grabs a measuring tape out of a basket by the old man.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning, Jenthyn!"</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning, my lady!"</p><p> </p><p>Then they get down to measuring.</p><p> </p><p>"Is this okay?" Litzibitz asks, hands hovering inches from Amanda's waist.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, go for it." Amanda watches as Litzibitz runs the measuring tape around her waist and hips, humming as she writes the measurements down in a little notebook.</p><p> </p><p>"Arms up," Litzibitz requests. Amanda raises her arms. Litzibitz bites her lip as she reaches behind Amanda's back to measure her bust, being careful not to brush Amanda's chest with her fingers as she takes the measurement.</p><p> </p><p>"There are just a few more," she says. "You can put your arms down." She holds the measuring tape across Amanda's shoulders and makes another note in the little book.</p><p> </p><p>"So they're just going to sew these for me?" Amanda asks, frowning.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, we pay them to," Litzibitz says, rapidly scribbling something else in the notebook. She rips a couple pages out and sets them on the table before tucking her pencil behind her ear and her notebook in her skirt pocket.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh. Uh, I don't--"</p><p> </p><p>"It's my gift to you!" Litzibitz waves one hand in the air. "Do you know how often I get to meet new people my age? Pretty much never!"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda frowns but doesn't say anything more. It doesn't sound like it's a big deal to Litzibitz, but having all those clothes made can't be cheap. The favor sits uncomfortably on Amanda's shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz hands the pages from her notebook to the nearest assistant and they exchange a few words. Amanda wanders back out to the fabric room and runs her fingers over the rolls of fabric they'd chosen. Some of them are slick and shiny; Amanda doesn’t know if she’s ever touched real silk, but they look like what she imagines silk to be. Others are a more durable cotton material, like what most of Litzibitz’s clothes are made from.</p><p> </p><p>They spend the rest of the afternoon just hanging out and talking on Litzibitz’s balcony. She’s light and bubbly, but like when they’d talked on the roof of the cabin in the woods, she isn’t afraid to let Amanda see her more serious side. Amanda finds herself gazing at Litzibitz’s hands waving through the air or running back and forth over her skirt, thinking about taking them in her own hands. Amanda remembers just how soft they were when she held them before.</p><p> </p><p>Visiting Litzibitz quickly becomes a habit. Litzibitz clearly wants to be a great host, always taking Amanda out for adventures in the castle or the surrounding woods. But sometimes they stay in the castle, too. </p><p> </p><p>One day, after Amanda’s rubbed one hand over her hair for the fiftieth time, Litzibitz suggests they give her a haircut. Somehow, cutting Amanda’s hair in Litzibitz’s fancy marble bathroom seems like the most natural thing in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care if my hair looks good, but have you ever cut someone’s hair before?” Amanda asks, bundling her hair up into a messy knot. </p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz nods. “My parents didn’t want me to have short hair at first, so I did all my own haircuts. I’ve done Panto’s hair, too, a few times.” </p><p> </p><p>“Rock on,” Amanda says. She steps into the bathroom and gazes at herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz rummages around in a cabinet and pulls out a pair of gold-plated scissors that she waves in Amanda’s direction.</p><p> </p><p>“Does knowing how to fight with scissors help your barbering skills?” Amanda laughs, hopping up onto the counter where the sink is, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce with her back to Litzibitz.</p><p> </p><p>“No, but my hair skills help my dueling,” Litzibitz says seriously. “Do you want me to cut just the sides?”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda uses her hands to show Litzibitz the haircut she wants, and Litzibitz starts snipping. Back at home, Amanda would have looked at her phone while she got her hair cut, but she left her phone in her bag. Something keeps pulling her gaze back to the mirror to watch Litzibitz’s concentration face, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, delicate hands sifting through Amanda’s hair. Litzibitz smiles whenever they lock eyes in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>When it’s done, Amanda runs her hands through her hair. “It looks great, thank you!”</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz ruffles Amanda’s hair with both hands and makes eye contact through the mirror. “Can we do something with my hair?”</p><p> </p><p>Something about it catches Amanda off-guard. “Yeah, of course,” she says. She wants to swing her legs elegantly off the countertop, but it’s more of a scramble to get herself down to the ground, hair snippings falling around her like snowflakes. Litzibitz offers a hand and Amanda takes it, anchoring herself with this small warm hand in her own. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you want to do?” Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz takes her hand back and runs both hands through her hair, tilting her head this way and that. “Could you cut one side of it short like yours?”</p><p> </p><p>They talk about it, negotiate a hairline. Amanda hasn’t cut anyone’s hair since she was fifteen and at an ill-advised party, and then the liquor stolen from a parent’s cabinet had given her sufficient courage to do the job. She takes a steeling breath and makes the first snip. She doesn’t know how Litzibitz kept smiling at her in the mirror while cutting Amanda’s hair. Every time she catches Litzibitz’s eyes, she wants to apologize for her inexperience, make reparations in advance for whatever mess she makes of Litzibitz’s hair. Amanda was genuine when she said she didn’t care too much about her own hair. She’d had Martin give her haircuts before. Hell, even Vogel had touched up her undercut once, and god bless him, he tried his best but his best just wasn’t that good. But when it came to Litzibitz’s hair...Amanda wants to do it justice. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily, just cutting it all short isn’t too hard. Litzibitz even has a tail comb that makes it easy to draw a sharp part. It’s easy for Amanda to get absorbed into her work, and it isn’t long before she’s done.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we do the other side, too?” Litzibitz asks shyly, one hand up to the short side of her hair. She looks almost sad, but her eyes are shining, and it makes Amanda’s heart twist. It wasn’t so long ago that she discovered the joys of an undercut, a sharp leather jacket, cheap black dye, and eyeliner. It’s giving a shit and at the same time none at all; it’s freedom from having to care in that particular way; a gateway to a whole new world of self-expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Totally.” Amanda picks up the tail comb again and gets to work. Litzibitz keeps her eyes closed. When Amanda sets her scissors down on the counter, Litzibitz puts her hands over her eyes and hops down from the counter. She hurries over to her bathtub.</p><p> </p><p>“What -- ”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to wait to see it until after I’ve washed it,” she explains, already kneeling on her fluffy white bath mat, tipping her head over her claw-footed bathtub. She turns on the water and picks up her bar of shampoo. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do that for you,” Amanda says, surprising herself with the softness of her voice. She hasn’t known Litzibitz long, but it already feels natural to offer to do something like that. Amanda can even admit to herself that she wants to touch Litzibitz’s hair and face. </p><p> </p><p>She kneels next to Litzibitz and rubs the bar of shampoo between her hands, working up a lather. It’s a gorgeous bar of soap, much like the goat’s-milk soap Amanda sometimes saw at farmers’ markets, flowers and seeds pressed into the top. She runs her foamy hands over Litzibitz’s wet hair. </p><p> </p><p>“Your hair is really just pink naturally?” Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Litzibitz says, voice muffled. Amanda thinks back to all the times she’d rinsed cheap dye out of her hair like this and remembers keeping her mouth shut so as not to get water in it. She stays quiet for the rest of the rinse, just running her fingers over Litzibitz’s scalp and the nape of her neck. </p><p> </p><p>“All done,” Amanda says, tapping the back of Litzibitz’s neck, and she stands up, shaking her head and letting droplets cascade into the tub. She grabs her towel and pats the moisture out of her hair. </p><p> </p><p>“I always used to do this,” Amanda says. She picks up another towel, flips her head upside down, and wraps her hair up into a turban, the way she’d learned from her mom.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz grins. “Show me how to do that again?” and Amanda does.</p><p> </p><p>Once her hair is dry, Litzibitz takes off her towel turban and looks at herself in the mirror. The shaved sides of her head make her look more and less vulnerable at the same time, like she would kick your ass but break a bone doing it. Amanda loves it. Litzibitz runs her fingers over her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she says, throwing her arms around Amanda, who instinctively catches her and supports her weight before turning it into a proper hug.</p><p> </p><p>“No big,” Amanda says into her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Litzibitz asks, pulling away, grinning like she did when she asked if Amanda’s grandma made rocks. It’s a joyful, giant smile that always fills Amanda’s chest like a balloon. “Is that more America slang?”</p><p> </p><p>“You know it.” Amanda grins. She catches sight of her reflection over Litzibitz’s shoulder. “While we’re doing hair stuff, do you have stuff to dye hair?”</p><p> </p><p>"Do you want to dye it black again?" Litzibitz asks.</p><p>"I'm not sure. Maybe a dark brown?" Amanda says, but despite the uncertainty in her words, she knows it's time for something a little softer than she'd been doing over the past few months. She puts a hand up to her own hair and runs her fingers through it, looking at the roots, her own lighter brown showing through.</p><p>"We use walnut dye. That can be black or brown." Litzibitz clasps her hands behind her back and bobs up and down on the balls of her feet.</p><p>"Ooh, that's cool!"</p><p>"What do you use back home?"</p><p>"I don't even know. Chemicals, I guess. Ammonia? Bleach smells like cat piss but they usually make dye smell kinda flowery."</p><p>Litzibitz nods slowly, eyebrows raised. "I understood the part about cat piss," she says, giggling a little as she swears, "and the flowery smell. But that's about it."</p><p>"That's a-okay, I don't understand it either." The women smile at each other. The sudden quiet unexpectedly weighs on Amanda’s shoulders.</p><p>Litzibitz touches the newly bare sides of her head. "Thank you, 'Manda."</p><p>It feels like Litzibitz might say or do something else, her lips gently parted and a slight frown on her brow, but she just shakes her head and leaves the bathroom. Amanda frowns and follows, wondering what that was all about. </p><p>“Do you have clothes you don’t mind getting stained?” Litzibitz asks. She goes to her armoire and pulls out a pair of overalls splotched with dark brown stains.</p><p>Amanda looks down at her new navy blue dress. “I’ll put on my normal clothes.” She retrieves them from her bag, puddled on the floor by Litzibitz’s bed. When she stands up again, she sees Litzibitz changing into the overalls, back to Amanda. Litzibitz stands up, pulling the straps of the overalls with her. As always she’s braless, her narrow back pale and freckled. Amanda feels a jolt in the bottom of her stomach and turns away, silently changing into her own clothes. When she turns around, Litzibitz is wearing the overalls and nothing else. Pink fuzz peeks out from her armpits. </p><p>“No shirt?” Amanda asks, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>“I kind of like getting walnut juice on my skin for a bit.” Litzibitz shrugs. “Not my clothes, though, Jenthyn would kill me. I already need new clothes way too often.”</p><p>They saddle up Buttercup and Tulip, "for practice," Litzibitz says, even though according to her the walnut groves aren't far away. They were originally clumps of wild walnut trees, but her family planted orderly rows of trees to make it easier to harvest.</p><p>"I like the wild groves better." Litzibitz rocks up and down with Tulip's rhythm. Amanda hasn't quite gotten used to trotting yet; when Buttercup walks she can just sit normally, but she has to go up and down with the motion of a trot so her ass won't get so sore.</p><p>"I bet you grew up playing in the gardens, huh?" Amanda smiles just thinking about it. It conjures images of pink-haired kids playing fairies amongst gnarled old trees.</p><p>"Yes." Litzibitz smiles dreamily. "I used to sit there with Panto making flower crowns until there weren't any flowers left."</p><p>"That's nice of him. I'm not sure Todd would have had that kind of patience."</p><p>Litzibitz looks sharply at Amanda. "Todd?"</p><p>"My brother?" Amanda says, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>"Oh." Litzibitz relaxes back into her saddle. "Is this the same one Panto and Silas call 'Toad'?"</p><p>Amanda bursts into laughter. "Toad! Oh my god, I love that."</p><p>"Amanda and Toad." Litzibitz laughs too. "There, look!" She points ahead of them at the groves. All the while they'd been riding alongside fields of various crops, but ahead of them, fields turn into groves of trees dotted with --</p><p>"Are those beehives?"</p><p>"Yes!"</p><p>Amanda squints at them. She'd seen beehives once or twice back home; they were square stacks of frames for honey, as far as she knew, but these beehives were straight out of a  cartoon, bright yellow with honeycomb.</p><p>"You're not afraid of bees, are you? They don't want to hurt you," Litzibitz reassures Amanda.</p><p>Amanda wrinkles her nose. "Look, I don't love bees, but they're fine. As long as they don't get too close."</p><p>"We'll stay away from them, then."</p><p>They dismount and tie their horses to stakes in the soft ground of the walnut groves. Leaves high overhead block out the summer sunshine, leaving them in a cool green bowl with trees all around them.</p><p> </p><p>“So how do you actually make walnut dye?”</p><p> </p><p>“We basically break up the nuts and boil them.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, then you put it on your hair, I suppose. But yes, it’s very easy! Walnuts dye everything whether you want them to or not.” Litzibitz passes Amanda a bag and a pair of splotchy dark brown gloves that clearly began life as a cream colour. She pulls on her own gloves. “We won’t need that many for your hair, but we might as well get some for the castle.”</p><p> </p><p>"For eating or dying?" Amanda asks. She pulls on the gloves Litzibitz passed her and flexes her fingers through the fabric.</p><p> </p><p>"Both, but mostly eating. We don't really do brown clothes, but we sometimes use the walnut dye to stain furniture." Litzibitz walks out into the middle of the grove and picks up a green-hulled walnut. "This is what we're looking for!"</p><p> </p><p>They begin to pick up walnuts. It's kind of awkward constantly bending over to grab them; Litzibitz sits down and picks up all the walnuts around her before scooting over to a new patch of grass, and Amanda soon copies her. They gather walnuts for a while in friendly silence before Amanda starts to get bored. She picks up a couple walnuts and lobs them at Litzibitz, careful not to throw them hard enough to hurt.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey!" Litzibitz laughs and grabs the walnuts, lobbing them back at Amanda, who shrieks and throws her hands up over her face. She stands up and runs behind one of the walnut trees with Litzibitz in hot pursuit. They chase each other around a tree, laughing, without much time to pick up walnuts. Litzibitz peels off to find her own hiding place. They take up their positions behind two trees with massive curled and knotted roots, popping their heads up over their shelters to throw walnuts at the other.</p><p> </p><p>"How dare you throw walnuts at your host!" Litzibitz calls.</p><p> </p><p>"How dare you throw them at your guest?" Amanda calls back, punctuating her statement with another handful of walnuts.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm a princess, you can't throw stuff at me!"</p><p> </p><p>"Too bad!" Amanda pops her head up in preparation to throw walnuts, but a well-aimed missile from Litzibitz hits her square in the forehead. "Ouch!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no, did I get you for real?" Litzibitz stands up instantly, prepared to come apologize, but collapses behind her hideout as Amanda peppers her torso with walnut shrapnel. "I guess not!"</p><p> </p><p>"You know, at home we'd be doing this with paintballs that get paint all over you."</p><p> </p><p>"That sounds awesome!" Litzibitz says. It's followed by a shower of walnuts. Amanda defensively throws her arms over her head.</p><p> </p><p>"Can we make paintballs?" Amanda asks, sticking her hand up to throw a walnut.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know, how do you make them?"</p><p> </p><p>"Good question!"</p><p> </p><p>They keep throwing walnuts at each other for a bit before calling a truce. They'd used up most of the walnuts they'd gathered, so they have to spend another ten or twenty minutes picking up all the walnuts.</p><p> </p><p>"At least they'll be easier to open now that they've all hit the ground," Litzibitz says, picking up a walnut whose green hull has split down the middle. She has smudges of walnut dye all over her bare upper chest and arms, with a few scattered spots on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda looks down at herself. The walnut stains don't show up well on her dark clothes, but she, too, has splotches on her skin. They both look like dalmatians.</p><p> </p><p>Back at the castle, Litzibitz takes Amanda down to the kitchen to get the walnut dye started. A harried cook has to light the stove for Litzibitz.</p><p> </p><p>"You don't know how to light a stove?" Amanda asks, incredulous. Okay, admittedly she doesn't know how to do a gas stove as she's always had electric stoves, but Litzibitz is used to these, or at least Amanda assumes so.</p><p> </p><p>"Nope." Litzibitz shrugs. "I never cook, you know." But she does manage to fill a pot with water and put it on the stove. It smells funky as the walnuts heat up, turning the water a deep brown.</p><p> </p><p>"How did you guys figure out that this would make good dye?" Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz wrinkles her nose. "That's a good question! Maybe we were making walnut soup or something, or people figured it out because it stained their skin? I don't know!"</p><p>"Walnut soup?" Amanda asks.</p><p>"Well, I don't know!" Litzibitz laughs. "But walnut soup could be kind of good."</p><p>"So how long are we gonna look like giraffes?"</p><p> </p><p>"A week or so," Litzibitz says, laughing.</p><p> </p><p>"Great."</p><p> </p><p>"Didn't I tell you they stain?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, technically you did."</p><p> </p><p>They head up to Litzibitz's bathroom when the dye has been properly boiled. They have to get Amanda's hair wet first. She kneels and leans over the bathtub like Litzibitz had, leaving her long hair dangling into space. Litzibitz turns on the water and runs her hands through Amanda's hair. She gives Amanda a towel to get some of the excess water out.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, time to put it in your hair. I should have gotten a rag or something to put over your clothes!"</p><p> </p><p>"They're already stained," Amanda shrugs. "Go for it, it's fine."</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." So Litzibitz puts on the gloves from before and dips her hands into the warm dye. She spreads and smooths it all over Amanda's head, scrunching it into her hair. It’s nice and warm. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I should have put something on your skin to stop it from staining.” She retrieves a rag and dips it in warm water, crouches in front of Amanda, and dabs the rag along her hairline. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda sucks in her lips and holds her breath, not wanting to breathe on Litzibitz’s face; who knows what her breath smells like now? It’s also just a lot to have Litzibitz right there in front of her face, where Amanda could practically count the freckles dotting her cheeks and the few rogue freckles on her upper lip. She didn’t know Litzibitz had freckles on her lip! Amanda’s eyebrows crease involuntarily as she takes it all in. </p><p> </p><p>“Is everything okay?” Litzibitz pauses, her rag held up to Amanda’s ear. Her other hand cups the junction between Amanda’s neck and shoulder to give herself balance, her skin warm and soft.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. All good.” Amanda flashes a smile and closes her eyes, tilting her head up and to the side for Litzibitz to get better access to her ear. Litzibitz presses her hand against Amanda’s cheek, gently pushing Amanda’s head in the direction she needs it to go. She can wipe the rag across the back of Amanda’s neck. A shiver goes down Amanda’s back as Litzibitz’s hand shifts to cradle Amanda’s jaw. Litzibitz shuffles around to Amanda’s other side, trailing her other hand across the back of Amanda’s neck, and runs the rag over the other side of her face.</p><p> </p><p>"And now we wait!" </p><p> </p><p>They cover Amanda’s hair with a shiny piece of plastic and sit down to play Imbroglio. Rays of light from the setting sun splash across the plush carpet and illuminate Litzibitz’s hands with their silver rings, the dice, the last few flakes of nail polish on Amanda’s fingernails. More than once Amanda looks up at Litzibitz to catch her watching Amanda or vice versa, since Amanda can’t resist taking in the shadows Litzibitz’s eyelashes cast on her cheek and the big freckle near her eye.</p><p> </p><p>They reduce the number of dice they start with until they’ve each got only three. Amanda has bad luck on the first round and has to put two of hers in the middle, and when Litzibitz reaches for the last one Amanda closes her fist over the die. The tug-o-war over the die soon turns into an out-and-out wrestling match with both of them shrieking with laughter. Litzibitz eventually gains control of the die and stuffs it down the front of her shirt, grinning with triumph.</p><p> </p><p>Well! Amanda certainly isn’t gonna go diving down her shirt, but she really doesn’t want to give up. One quick glance tells her that Litzibitz’s shirt has come untucked in the front.</p><p> </p><p>“You think you’ve won?” she pants, diving at Litzibitz, who scrambles backwards and gets up. Amanda pounces on the die as it hits the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Ha-ha!”</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz sighs and props her hands on her hips. “Alright, I guess we can declare you the winner.” </p><p> </p><p>There isn’t time for Amanda to bask before Litzibitz gasps. “Oh my god, the hair dye!”</p><p> </p><p>The baby-blue carpet is absolutely streaked with brown dye.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Amanda says, but a giggle sneaks out, and then Litzibitz laughs too. She plops down onto the carpet beside Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll just move a couch over that when it’s dry. It’ll be fine.” </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Amanda says genuinely.</p><p> </p><p>“I should have remembered.” Litzibitz shrugs. “Oh well!”</p><p> </p><p>They wash the hair dye out of Amanda’s hair after that and dry it with a towel. It’s a great color for her, warm and rich, especially when contrasted against her pale skin. </p><p> </p><p>It’s late, the summer sun already out of sight below the horizon, and they haven’t had dinner yet. Litzibitz starts a note to the Dengdamors to let them know that Amanda won’t be joining them for dinner.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda watches Litzibitz write the note with her familiar curly handwriting. “You know,” she says casually, drawing out the vowels, “it’s gonna be dark soon. Buttercup hates riding at night.” It’s mostly true; while Buttercup has solid night vision, Amanda knows from experience that they’re more likely to meet wild animals that might spook her.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz looks up from her note. “Oh my gosh, are you suggesting a sleepover?” A smile’s already starting to spread across her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I mean, if you’re cool, with it.”</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz grins. “Heck yeah!” She adds a postscript to the note and signs it with a flourish. </p><p> </p><p>Dinner is a cheerful affair in the grand dining hall, candles lit and a live band in the corner. The music makes Amanda want to dance or pick up a pair of drumsticks. After dinner they do dance, and Amanda’s pleased to discover that she can do the Wendimoor Waltz without making a total fool of herself. She dances a round with Panto, a perfect gentleman, and even one with the king; but of course she dances with Litzibitz the most. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda finds herself thinking about their sleeping arrangements as they head up to bed. She hasn’t slept in the same bed as someone she liked (Amanda tries her hardest not to think “like-liked,” even in her own head) in years. It was probably like riding a bike, right? All you had to do was not be weird. On the other hand, Litzibitz might put her in a guest bedroom. That would be fine, too, if disappointing.</p><p> </p><p>“So, um…” Litzibitz comes to a stop in front of her room. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda rarely hears her say “um” or “uh,” and the disfluency catches her off-guard. “Yeah? What’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just...are you okay with sharing, or there’s the guest bedroom,” Litzibitz says, looking anywhere but at Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda’s heart sinks. It doesn’t really seem like Litzibitz wants to share, even though they’d just had a great day together. She scuffs one foot against the floorboards before deciding to go for it anyway; she knows they’re good friends. “I’m good to share.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool, nice,” Litzibitz says, and the brightness Amanda’s used to seeing floods back into her face. “I don’t kick, I promise. Panto says I snore, but I refuse to believe him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> do </em> kick,” Amanda replies, leading the way into Litzibitz’s room.</p><p> </p><p>They eventually get settled in, teeth brushed and pajamas fresh from the castle laundry room. Litzibitz’s soft pink pajamas are a little tight and short on Amanda. She has to be careful not to get caught sniffing the collar, where it smells soft and flowery, just like Litzibitz. </p><p> </p><p>They lie down facing each other and smile, though they’re quiet for a while. Amanda’s all too aware of her quickly beating heart and every tiny noise her body makes. Her tummy rumbles and breaks the half-uneasy silence, both women breaking into giggles.</p><p> </p><p>“G’night, ‘Manda!” Litzibitz says, blowing out the lantern on her bedside table.</p><p> </p><p>“Night.” Amanda shuffles around to find a comfier position against her pillows, Litzibitz doing the same beside her. Litzibitz’s feet find Amanda’s under the covers and don’t move away. Their knees brush together and settle, too, and Amanda holds her breath. </p><p> </p><p>They don’t touch any more before Amanda falls asleep, but she wakes up in the wee hours a couple of times to find that they’re loosely spooning. She isn’t going to complain about that.  </p><p> </p><p>Staying over at Litzibitz’s happens more and more often. It isn’t unusual to see Amanda down in the kitchens in the morning, making two cups of tea while waiting for Litzibitz to wake up. Amanda feels herself falling a little bit more in love with each visit. She used to be so brave about this sort of thing, but it’s been ages…</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz seems to have an unlimited store of ideas for things for them to do: skydiving, attending princess lessons, horse-riding, squirt gun fight, swimming in the river (oh man, Litzibitz in a bikini!), window-shopping in the surrounding town. But eventually, even she runs out of ideas.</p><p> </p><p>“What should we do today?” Litzibitz asks one day, mopping up soup with the last bit of her bread roll and popping it into her mouth. </p><p> </p><p>Summer’s slipping past them, the sun setting earlier and earlier. Something about missing home and the gray weather has Amanda in kind of a gloomy mood this evening. She runs one hand over her hair and half-heartedly stirs her soup with the other. “Dunno. What do you want to do?”</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz bites her lip on one side, resting her chin on her fist, and studies Amanda. “We could have a bit of…” She glances around the kitchen, then leans forward and whispers: “We could have some dinkie dow?”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda bursts out laughing. When Litzibitz glares at her, she covers her laugh with both hands, but it isn’t very effective.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Dinkie dow?” </em>she whispers, when she’s got herself under control. “What the fuck is that?”</p><p> </p><p>“You smoke it and it calms you down,” Litzibitz whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, like weed.” Amanda rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I’m down!”</p><p> </p><p>They walk up to Litzibitz’s room together. She makes a big show of locking her door before diving into her walk-in closet, re-emerging with a little wooden box. They go out onto Litzibitz’s balcony and settle onto her white wicker furniture. Amanda loves the furniture; somehow it encapsulates Litzibitz’s elegance and cowgirl style all in one. Litzibitz grinds up the weed and rolls a joint. </p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz passes Amanda the joint and lights it for her with a silver-plated lighter. It’s been so long since Amanda’s smoked; she sighs in relief and accidentally exhales all the smoke before its had its chance to soak into her lungs, making Litzibitz laugh. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s been a while, okay?” Amanda says, a smile curving her lips. She takes another drag and closes her eyes as she passes the joint to Litzibitz. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve barely had six puffs each and settled down on a chair before Amanda has the thought that white wicker furniture would be Litzibitz's patronus. She bends over double laughing about it. They're sitting together on the chair for two, a blanket draped over their shoulders, feet touching in the middle. Litzibitz gave Amanda a pair of her fuzzy socks, so big they're practically slippers, so their socked feet match.</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Litzibitz asks, exhaling a long cloud of smoke, and because it's Litzibitz and because it's Wendimoor, the smoke comes out in heart-shaped puffs. "What's so funny?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda chokes out, "The furniture -- is so --<em> you!" </em></p><p>"Is it?" Litzibitz looks down and frowns at it, but the dinkie dow has smoothed out all the creases and sanded off the rough edges, and it's a very nebulous frown at best. She passes the joint to Amanda, who can't even take it. She's still quaking with laughter.</p><p>"Okay, I actually think. I actually think you have had enough, missy!" Litzibitz scolds, taking the joint back, and Amanda's hands chase hers. </p><p>"Nope! All mine!" Litzibitz giggles as she holds the joint up behind her head and Amanda clumsily topples into her.</p><p>"Mmm, you smell good," Amanda mumbles, forgetting about the weed in favor of burying her face into Litzibitz's neck.</p><p>Litzibitz lowers her hands and hovers one over Amanda's hair -- Amanda can feel it, her hand just floating there, barely touching Amanda's hair. Her hand settles into Amanda's head like a bird to its nest. "I think...'s my shampoo. Is it?"Litzibitz asks.</p><p>"Nnn, not your shampoo. Something else."</p><p>There's a long, breathless moment, and then Amanda sits up again, pushing her hair behind her ears.</p><p>Litzibitz picks up the joint from where she'd dropped it on the chair and fusses with it, running her fingers over it long after she's knocked all the ash off. Even with Amanda’s brain tingling, she feels like something is off, and maybe she’s being too obvious that she likes Litzibitz? Amanda opens her mouth to say something, anything.</p><p>"The furniture is you because it's beautiful and elegant but silly and it doesn't look strong but it is," Amanda explains, and it feels like it took a million minutes to say, and by the time she's reached the end of it she can't remember how it began or what the point is, "and it's just really nice furniture and it feels like you and I like it."</p><p>She and Litzibitz stare at each other for what feels like an age, and Amanda means to concentrate on what is happening and what's being said, but Litzibitz's tiny faint freckles are turning into a kaleidoscope, slowly turning in circles...</p><p>Litzibitz claps her hands together. "I think it's time for snacks," she declares, and something splashes into the pit of Amanda's stomach, and oh she wishes like hell she wasn't high right now because she is starting to feel downright bad.</p><p>She could use some snacks, though.</p><p>Litzibitz had brought snacks up before (she'd gone and gotten them herself!), including a giant bowl of those delicious Tide pod candies, and Amanda eats like ten of them before she even realizes what she's doing. She looks up and Litzibitz is shelling peas, slowly, like she has to do the job perfectly. <em> Snap </em> goes one end of the shell, and <em> zzzip </em> as Litzibitz pulls the little string that holds the sides of the pea shell together, and then the peas drop into a bowl. There's a little pile of pea pods all around her and Amanda wants to cry.</p><p>"Zizi," she says, and she doesn't know where she's going with that, and Litzibitz looks up at her with her cut-glass cheekbones and her bright sparkling eyes, and the moment is so fragile and Amanda's the bull in the china shop and she doesn't even know why that is, because she's literally just getting high with a friend, which is something she used to do all the time, and she just needs a glass of water and a nap and she'll probably be fine, except water never seems to help the dry mouth feeling, it just goes down her throat like water off a duck's back -- and whoever came up with that expression? Who was just standing around watching what happened when water got on a duck's --</p><p>"'Manda?" Litzibitz prompts.</p><p>"What?" Amanda shakes herself.</p><p>"You said, 'Zizi.' And then you zoned out."</p><p>"Right." Amanda pauses and nods her head way more than she needs to. "I have no fuckin clue what I was gonna say."</p><p>Litzibitz laughs, and just like that, there's a lil bandaid over whatever that weirdness was, a lil blue bandaid with a dinosaur on it, which reminds Amanda of --</p><p>"You're so damn high," Litzibitz says, smiling when she swears, and Amanda laughs and they end up laughing just for the sake of laughing, nearly running out of air and then laughing at that, and everything's just a little bit sparklier, and slower, like maybe Amanda's in a slow-mo summer montage in a movie, running through endless wheat fields full of fireflies.</p><p>The next thing Amanda's fully aware of, she's waking up in Litzibitz's bed. The blankets are all a mess as usual, and the entire left side of Amanda's body is cold, and she's got a mouthful of pink hair.</p><p>She couldn't be happier.</p><p>She pulls Litzibitz's hair out of her mouth, carefully, so she won't wake Litzibitz. One arm is under Litzibitz's neck and the other is over her shoulder -- there isn't really a way for Amanda to disentangle herself without waking Litzibitz. She'll just stay there, then. There isn't anywhere she really wants to go, except she could use a nice big glass of water for her headache.</p><p> </p><p>So she settles in to enjoy a cuddle until Litzibitz wakes up. It's nice and warm, and Litzibitz's sleeping face is so peaceful, though Amanda wonders if there's anyone out there who <em> doesn't </em>look peaceful when they're asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Litzibitz wakes up with a <em> mmmmr </em> like a cat. She stretches and Amanda shifts to give her room.</p><p> </p><p>"Goo’ morning," she yawns.</p><p> </p><p>"Morning," Amanda yawns back.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you have a headache too?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah." The corners of Amanda's mouth turn up. She still has her arms around Litzibitz, though more loosely now, and as she pulls away Litzibitz puts her hands on Amanda's arms.</p><p> </p><p>"Nooo, stay here," she says, eyelids drifting shut, and what could Amanda say to that?</p><p> </p><p>"Do you guys have coffee?" Amanda usually drinks tea, though she doesn't have anything against coffee -- she just had a friend who drank tea in high school and loved the aesthetic of it, so she got started drinking tea before she ever had much coffee, and then coffee seemed much too strong in comparison.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz's eyebrows crease above her closed eyes. "Coffee? You don't drink that, do you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not usually, why?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's just...it's kind of for grown-ups?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda laughs. "We are grown-ups, dude!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh yeah." Litzibitz's sleepy frown deepens. "Huh."</p><p> </p><p>"I just have a massive greenover and coffee would be good for that, but tea is good too."</p><p> </p><p>"What is a greenover?"</p><p> </p><p>"You know, like a hangover but for weed? Dink...dinkie...what the fuck did you call it?"</p><p> </p><p>"What's a hangover?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my god. Okay." Amanda shakes her head against the pillow. "LIke when you have a headache the morning after you drink a lot?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz sighs. "I still don't get it, but what does this all have to do with coffee?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda frowns. "Okay, what is coffee here?"</p><p> </p><p>"You know, the grown-up drink!"</p><p> </p><p>"Does it wake you up?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, why would it do that?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda laughs. "Back home coffee just wakes you up, so it's good after a hangover, you know?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." Litzibitz frowns. "Huh."</p><p> </p><p>"So how do you guys deal with a hango -- a headache in the morning?"</p><p> </p><p>"Two Advil and an orange juice."</p><p> </p><p>"What?!" Amanda laughs. "Okay, <em> Mom." </em></p><p>"I'm not your mom, 'Manda," Litzibitz says seriously.</p><p>Amanda shakes her head again. "Okay. I'm going to go make tea." She squeezes Litzibitz in a hug before getting out of bed. It's cold; fall is arriving quicker than Amanda expected. She steals Litzibitz's slippers and fluffy pink robe to go down to the kitchens. It's not the first time she's done so, and she knows no one will care that she's walking around in her pajamas.</p><p>Down in the kitchen, the dishwashers are already hard at work, wearing rubber gloves up to their elbows; Amanda and Litzibitz must have slept in long enough to miss breakfast. Amanda goes to find the kettle and plop it onto the stove. She's not that familiar with the kitchen, but she could make tea in her sleep. She leans against the counter and closes her eyes as she waits for the water to boil. </p><p> </p><p>A pair of cooks pass Amanda, talking about their duties for the day.</p><p> </p><p>"We have to get started on those pastries for her lady's friend," one says.</p><p> </p><p>"She's really got eyes for her, hasn't she?" the other cook asks, snorting. "Guess I'll start peeling the apples."</p><p> </p><p>"I think it's sweet!"</p><p> </p><p>"Sure, but she's not from -- "</p><p> </p><p>Amanda opens her eyes as the second cook stutters to a stop.</p><p> </p><p>"Excuse us, we didn't see you there!" the first one says, gathering up their skirt and curtsying.</p><p> </p><p>"That's fine," Amanda says absently, replaying their words in her head. <em> really got eyes for her, she's not from -- </em>Wendimoor? Could they be talking about her? Of course, Litzibitz has other friends, like Bigby, but surely the cooks would refer to her as a bodyguard or by her name. Amanda moves out of the way to let the second cook start chopping apples on the massive cutting board next to the stove.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda takes the kettle off the stove as it starts whistling and pours two cups of tea. She has to stop on her slow way back to Litzibitz’s rooms to dump the tea leaves out the window so the cups won’t oversteep.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda sets the cups of tea on the floor outside Litzibitz's room to pull the doors open. She sets the cups on the nightstand, then runs to close the doors before they fall shut with a massive <em> thump. </em>Litzibitz snores gently in the bed, blankets tangled around her legs. Amanda stands there by the bed, watching her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. Then she gets into bed and snuggles under the blankets. Tea can wait.</p><p> </p><p>They spend a hazy hour or so in bed, drinking tea and recounting their dreams, before deciding to get up and face the day. It's beautiful and sunny out on Litzibitz's balcony, with fluffy cottonball clouds racing each other across the sky. Litzibitz suggests a picnic.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda decides, then, that a picnic would be a good time to tell Litzibitz how she feels. It already felt like Litzibitz might have liked her, especially after what happened while they smoked together, and then with the comment from the cook... Even if Litzibitz doesn't return her feelings, Amanda only has another month in Wendimoor before she has to go back home. Saying something now and making things a little weird is not as bad as saying something later and finding out they have such little time together.</p><p> </p><p>They go down to the kitchen together since Amanda wants to make egg salad sandwiches. She wants pigs in blankets, too, but she doesn't know how to make the doughy blanket.</p><p> </p><p>"Where's the pantry?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz waves her over to a room just off the kitchen stacked floor-to-ceiling with food. Amanda just stands and stares.</p><p> </p><p>"It's great, isn't it?" Litzibitz stands on tip-toes to grab a terracotta bowl of fruit.</p><p> </p><p>"This is so much food!" Amanda collects eggs, bread, pickles, and mayo. It's a balancing act to get them all in her arms, but she manages to carry all of her ingredients back to the bench. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda gets a saucepan down from its hook and fills it with water before putting it on the stove. She  dices the pickles while she waits for the eggs to boil. Next to her, Litzibitz chops apples, bananas, and fruits Amanda's never seen before, even after being in Wendimoor for a while. After Litzibitz finishes the fruit salad, she goes back to the pantry, coming back with her arms loaded down with snacks.</p><p> </p><p>They load the picnic food into saddlebags and saddle up Tulip and Buttercup. It's a beautiful morning, with the pale moon visible behind cotton-candy clouds, and Amanda feels like she's filled with helium.</p><p> </p><p>"Wanna race?" Litzibitz asks, once they've walked their horses out of the castle complex.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda kicks Buttercup into action and leans down close over her neck.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey! That's not fair!" Litzibitz shouts from behind her. Amanda grins as she hears Tulip kick up into a gallop.</p><p> </p><p>"Catch me if you can!" Amanda shouts back.</p><p> </p><p>They race over logs and rocks, covering so much ground below their horses' hooves that it feels like flying. Tulip easily catches up with Buttercup, then passes her, and Litzibitz whoops in triumph.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on, girl," Amanda whispers, patting Buttercup's neck. She loosens her hold on the reins to give Buttercup more space, and she takes it, zooming up the trail even faster than before.</p><p> </p><p>With Buttercup and Tulip almost neck-to-neck, Amanda and Litzibitz trade glances. They've both got their game faces on, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.</p><p> </p><p>"Where are we going?" Amanda calls.</p><p> </p><p>"If I tell you, you might win!" Litzibitz replies.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, fuck you!" Amanda chirps with a grin.</p><p> </p><p>"Only if you can catch me!" Litzibitz lets out Tulip's reins and the two of them pull ahead by inches, then feet, then much more.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda can feel Buttercup slowing down almost imperceptibly below her; she's an excellent horse, but she's definitely not a sprinter. She can't work her horse much more without Buttercup getting exhausted. If only she could guess where Litzibitz was going, she could try to take a shortcut...</p><p> </p><p>It's a gamble, but she feels like they're probably headed to the waterfall Litzibitz had told her about a few days before. She has a general idea of its location, enough to cut through the forest to get there.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, Buttercup, let's do this!" Amanda shifts her weight in the saddle to direct Buttercup to turn off the path and make her way through the forest. She has to slow down a little to avoid clipping her hooves on logs and the like, but not by too much. Amanda keeps herself tucked down low to make sure she doesn't get hit in the face with leaves or branches. She finds the creek that she's pretty sure comes down from the waterfall and turns Buttercup to run alongside the stream.</p><p> </p><p>It's only a few minutes later when Amanda and Buttercup emerge into a clearing with the waterfall at the other end, just at the moment when Litzibitz and Tulip do the same. They slow their horses to a canter, then a trot, and finally to a walk.</p><p> </p><p>"'Manda! Where did you go?" Litzibitz calls. She drops the reins and runs both hands over her hair, slicking it back into place.</p><p> </p><p>"Took a shortcut!" Amanda brings Buttercup to a stop and dismounts.</p><p> </p><p>"How did you know this was where we were going?"</p><p> </p><p>"You mentioned it a couple days ago! You're not slick."</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz shakes her head as she, too, dismounts her horse. "I'll have to be sneakier next time."</p><p> </p><p>They lead their horses over to the waterfall, where they clip on their leads and hitch them to a pair of trees at the edge of the clearing. They give their horses a quick go-over with a brush. Then they take down the saddlebags and set out their picnic on a big blue blanket.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda flops down onto the blanket, spread-eagled, and stretches her arms over her head. "If Buttercup was doing all the work, then why am <em> I </em>exhausted?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz laughs. "Me too." She gets up off the picnic blanket and walks over to the waterfall, where she sticks her head under the spray. She shrieks when the cold water hits her neck and comes up shaking her head like a dog, droplets of water flying in all directions.</p><p> </p><p>"What are you <em> doing?” </em>Amanda laughs.</p><p> </p><p>"My hair was sweaty." Litzibitz runs her hands through her hair again, and god, it's such a gay haircut, and there are droplets of water on Litzibitz's freckled shoulders, and...! Amanda can’t look away.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda decides to take a risk and wolf-whistles. Litzibitz grins and vogues with one hand on her head and the other on her hip.</p><p> </p><p>"D'you like what you see?" She pops her shoulders to one side and her hips to the other.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh-huh," Amanda ventures, panicking, because that wasn't what she expected!</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz smiles again and plops onto the blanket beside her. "I'm <em> starving.” </em></p><p> </p><p>"Me too." Amanda digs into the saddlebags, pulling out their sandwiches and fruit salad.</p><p> </p><p>They don't talk much as they tuck into the food, since it’s delicious and they’re both famished. They're not even halfway through their meal when rain begins to sprinkle, then to drizzle, onto their heads and shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, no!" Litzibitz cries. She throws food back into the saddlebags all higgledy-piggledy. Amanda joins in, their hands brushing and bumping as they pick up the sandwiches and containers and put them away.</p><p> </p><p>"We have to wrap it up!" Amanda says. "We don't wanna get egg salad on the saddlebag!" But as she says it, the skies open and the rain really begins to pour.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz shrieks again -- Amanda loves how easily she startles. Amanda whips off her leather jacket and holds it above both of their heads as an impromptu umbrella. Together they run over to a rock overhang by the waterfall, abandoning the food and saddlebags to their soggy fate.</p><p> </p><p>The rain is surprisingly cold. Both of them are panting and laughing by the time they reach the safety of the overhang. Litzibitz's laughs get cut off by her teeth chattering.</p><p> </p><p>"Here, take my jacket," Amanda says, draping it over her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"Thank you." Litzibitz folds her arms into the sleeves and pulls it closed in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda slings her arm around the shorter woman and pulls her into her side. Litzibitz leans her head against Amanda's shoulder. Litzibitz's hair smells like her flowery, creamy shampoo bar, and Amanda breathes it in as they wait there, rain pouring down around them. It's cozy there with just the two of them, and it might as well be now, Amanda figures.</p><p> </p><p>"Zizi --"</p><p> </p><p>"'Manda --"</p><p> </p><p>They laugh. Litzibitz takes her head off Amanda's shoulder and looks up at her.</p><p> </p><p>"You first," Amanda says.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Litzibitz takes a deep breath and meets Amanda’s eyes. "No, actually, you first," and they laugh again.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay. So," Amanda says. Her heart is suddenly beating a million miles an hour and her throat is closing a bit. She closes her eyes and opens them again, forcing herself to make eye contact with Litzibitz. "I just want to say that...I like you. A lot. Like, I have feelings for you."</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz looks at her with such wide eyes, and the bottom drops out of Amanda's stomach for one long crystalline moment before Litzibitz bursts out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>Before Amanda can say anything, Litzibitz says, "I was just about to say the same thing!"</p><p> </p><p>"Great minds think alike," Amanda says on autopilot. It's something her mom always says and Amanda hates that she's picked up her mom's habit  -- "Wait. Really?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah!" Litzibitz reaches up and throws her arms around Amanda's shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, great!" Amanda's heart swells as she returns the hug. </p><p> </p><p>Both of them laugh.</p><p> </p><p>"Now what?" Litzibitz asks, pulling away. As much as her eyes are often bright and shining, Amanda has never seen them this bright before. If she's not mistaken, Litzibitz's eyes flick to her lips. </p><p> </p><p>"I guess at some point we gotta figure everything out and shit, cause I'm only here for a couple more weeks..." Something heavy settles into the bottom of Amanda's stomach. "...but for now..." And she looks at Litzibitz's lips, too. </p><p> </p><p>"Can we...?"</p><p> </p><p>Amanda nods and leans forward into Litzibitz's space. Litzibitz pushes up onto tiptoes and slides one hand into Amanda's hair, settling the other on her shoulder as their lips meet. </p><p> </p><p>Her lips are so soft, but she uses them with such intention: Amanda's never been kissed like this before. She can't get enough of Litzibitz's hands combing through her hair and tracing her cheek, her jawline, down to her neck. She lets out a little sound, halfway between a moan and a sigh, and Litzibitz breaks their kiss.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay?" </p><p> </p><p>"Yes, god, Zizi," and Amanda pulls her back in. </p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz takes off her borrowed jacket and wraps her arms around Amanda.</p><p> </p><p>By the time they've remembered that the outside world exists, the rain has stopped, leaving the clearing washed clean and picked out in sparkling raindrops. They walk back to their disgruntled horses, hair all tousled, lips hot and red. </p><p> </p><p>Buttercup nudges Amanda with her head harder than is necessary. They'd been able to shelter partway under the trees, but Buttercup's whole back half is dripping wet. The leather saddlebags are positively ruined.</p><p> </p><p>"Oops," Litzibitz says, not looking particularly sorry. She shrugs back into Amanda's leather jacket.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda makes a face as she packs the rest of the picnic food into the bags. The sandwich bread is a soggy mess that she couldn't pick up if she tried, so she just leaves it there to decompose.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, d'you wanna ride back on one horse?" Litzibitz suggests.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright!"</p><p> </p><p>So Amanda mounts up, then Litzibitz in front of her. Tulip has more than enough room for the both of them, though the saddle isn't as roomy; they'd have to go bareback, and there isn't anywhere to put the extra saddle. So Amanda slides off and gets up onto Buttercup's back. </p><p> </p><p>"See you later, alligator!" Litzibitz says, smiling and waving.</p><p> </p><p>"See you...in a while, crocodile?" Amanda hazards, wrinkling her nose; it's been a while since she's heard that one. </p><p> </p><p>They try to race on the way back, but the mud makes it tricky, so they just let their horses walk as they will.</p><p> </p><p>They're a little jittery, quicker to laugh than normal, their eyes skittering away when they catch each other looking, then looking back with a nervous smile. Litzibitz reaches out first for Amanda's hand. Amanda gladly winds her fingers through Litzibitz's. Their skin is cold and wet from the rain, but they soon warm up together.</p><p> </p><p>"How's your dad going to feel about this?" Amanda asks at one point, as the Trost castle comes into view.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz shrugs. "I don't know! I don't really want to think about it. I just want to be with you."</p><p> </p><p>"Me too." Amanda brings their entwined hands up to her mouth and kisses the back of Litzibitz's hand.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my gosh, remember when we first met and you -- "</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my god, I was so embarrassed!" Amanda says. "I just didn't know -- "</p><p> </p><p>"You were so flustered! It was adorable." They grin at each other.</p><p> </p><p>"So people don't usually kiss your hand?" Amanda asks, feeling her cheeks heat up, but she’s still smiling.</p><p> </p><p>"No, not really!" Litzibitz laughs. "We're not fancy like that."</p><p> </p><p>"You <em> say </em> that, but you're still fancier than most people I know."</p><p> </p><p>"I <em> am </em> a princess." Litzibitz shrugs theatrically, throwing both hands into the air. Tulip rears back at the unexpected tug on her reins and Litzibitz has to reassure her with a soothing hand on her neck.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you allowed to date a <em> peasant </em> like me?"</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz waves one casual hand through the air, making sure to let go of the reins first. "If I’m not, I'll be the first to break that rule."</p><p> </p><p>"What a pioneer." Amanda affectionately rolls her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>By then they’re nearly back. Amanda’s glad to warm up with giant mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows in the castle kitchen, sitting in chairs by the fire, where a massive pot of soup bubbles away. One of the servants Amanda overheard earlier brings them a platter of piping hot apple pastries dusted with spices and bursting with cream. Amanda laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” they say together.</p><p> </p><p>“What were you laughing at?” Litzibitz asks, ripping into her pastry with her teeth. She puffs out hot air like a steam engine.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard them say this morning that you asked them to make pastries for someone you’re head over heels for,” Amanda says. She tries her best to sound smug, but she can hear a note of vulnerability in her voice, too. This beautiful ethereal badass princess has feelings for her?!</p><p> </p><p>“Mmph, subtle,” Litzibitz says through a mouthful of pastry. “Also, they were exaggerating.” She dusts her hands together, powdered sugar and spices flying all over her dress, still spotted with rain. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh-huh.” Amanda raises both eyebrows, fighting off a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“They weren’t,” Litzibitz admits. She bites her lip and takes Amanda’s hand where it’s dangling off the arm of the chair, and if Amanda had purposefully put her hand there to make it easy, she’d never tell. </p><p> </p><p>They lean towards each other and share a chocolate and cardamom kiss.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think?” Litzibitz asks,</p><p> </p><p>“Very, very nice,” Amanda murmurs, flicking her gaze from Litzibitz's lips to her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz laughs. “I meant the pastries.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right.” Amanda’s glad for the heat radiating from the fire; hopefully it’ll disguise her blush. “They’re really good!”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re my favourite,” Litzibitz says, taking another bite.</p><p> </p><p>“Here, you’ve got sugar on your lip.” Amanda leans forward again and takes Litzibitz’s chin in her hand, gently swiping off the sugar with her thumb. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>They exchange another few kisses before heading up to bed. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda’s last day in Wendimoor comes a few weeks later, though it only feels like days. Amanda spends all her time at the Trost castle with her new girlfriend, competing with Panto and Silas for the title of cutest couple. As much fun as they have, though, Amanda’s eminent departure puts a damper on the proceedings. Amanda usually likes to face things head-on, but she’s never had such a big goodbye before. She doesn’t know how to handle it. Eventually, though, Litzibitz brings it up and they talk it out. </p><p> </p><p>Amanda would feel bittersweet about leaving even if Litzibitz hadn’t been involved. She’s really come to love Wendimoor and its people. On the other hand, she misses her friends and modern conveniences.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda’s last day in Wendimoor is cold and foggy, as though the weather can read her mind -- and maybe it can! She’d spent the night with Litzibitz at her castle, and they wrap up in lots of layers together before going down to breakfast. They have all of Amanda’s favorite foods from her time there: garlic-roasted quail, fresh garden tomatoes, crumbly white cheese, and tide pod candies. They’d had a farewell party the night before so Amanda could say goodbye to Farson, Silas, and Wakti Wapnasi. All there’s left to do is ride out to the well where she’d last seen Francis. </p><p> </p><p>She and Litzibitz head down to the stables to saddle Buttercup and Tulip. Amanda’s really going to miss the old horse. Amanda gives Buttercup a carrot and lets her tug it out of her hand. Amanda’s saddlebags bulge with her Wendimoorian fashions and gifts from her friends. Litzibitz has a saddlebag packed, too, though she won’t let Amanda see what’s inside.</p><p> </p><p>Amanda had originally planned for go for a longer ride on her last morning there, but no one likes the fog, least of all the horses. It’s atmospheric, like a foggy Halloween night, but the chill blows right through their cloaks. Litzibitz asks questions and tries to keep up banter, but Amanda can’t reciprocate. </p><p> </p><p>As they ride, though, the sun comes out from behind the clouds and melts the fog away. Long fingers of sunlight stretch across the forest, dappling the grass with gold. Amanda feels her heart lift. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s beautiful,” Litzibitz says softly, wonderingly.</p><p> </p><p>They both tilt their heads to the sky. The moon is just visible through the leaves -- oh, how Amanda’s going to miss that moon! They say separated lovers see the same moon, but that won’t be the case for her and Litzibitz. </p><p> </p><p>All too soon the ruined building comes into view, its stone walls mossy and damp from the fog. Amanda and Litzibitz stop in front of the building to collect their thoughts, their breath visible in the cool morning air.</p><p> </p><p>“‘Manda,” Litzibitz says suddenly, taking Amanda’s wrist. “I want to come with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been thinking about it all week. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure, and I wanted to be sure. I’ve always wanted to follow Panto to Earth, and I don’t want to leave you!”</p><p> </p><p>“You want to come to Earth?” Amanda repeats numbly.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz nods fervently. “Always have. I said goodbye to everyone this morning, just in case.” She pats her saddlebag. “I packed a bag, but I don’t need any of it, I think!”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you just doing this for me?” Amanda asks.</p><p> </p><p>Litzibitz shakes her head. “For me and for us.” She leans forward and kisses Amanda’s cheek. “And if I get homesick, you can send me home with your powers, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Amanda grins. “Hell yeah.” She throws her arms around Litzibitz. The morning’s still cold, but Amanda feels warm all over. </p><p> </p><p>They put a few of Litzibitz’s things in Amanda’s saddlebag and untie the horses. Litzibitz assures Amanda they’ll be able to find their way home. </p><p> </p><p>Francis waits for them inside, smiling benevolently down at them. “Are you ready?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re ready!” Litzibitz chirps.</p><p> </p><p>Francis raises one eyebrow. A swirling portal appears in the well as he claps his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Where on Earth are we going to land?” Litzibitz asks. </p><p> </p><p>Francis looks at Amanda, head slightly tilted to one side.</p><p> </p><p>“Wherever the universe needs me to be,” Amanda says, heart racing. “Ready?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ready!”</p><p> </p><p>And they step into the portal together, hand-in-hand.</p>
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